A Dream in Twofold
by Tearoom Saloon
Summary: He was as much a monster as she made him out to be. But the more she saw of him, the more complicated he became. A beast or a frightened child, his faces often changed, and she could no longer tell which dreams belonged to whom. Usually updates Fridays or Sundays barring weeks with exams.
1. Bleak Snowfall

**Pre-note:** First, no one in a courtship is related in this universe. Second, this will be a long story, though exactly how long is up in the air. It's a redemption plot and a lot of the hints will be subtle and slow-going. I'm a sucker for symbolism and multiple interpretations.  
There will be a mix of in-universe and modern swears (we can all agree that poodoo is too silly a word to be taken seriously), but everything else will stay as close to canon and legends terminology as possible. Give me a note if I slip up and where.

In case this is going unnoticed, this story updates once a week on either a **Friday** or a **Sunday** before 12am EST. I am trying to make **Friday the regular day,** but I'm a college kid and my schoolwork comes first, so Sunday updates should be uncommon but entirely possible.

The **M** rating is for both sex and violence, though the sex is a while off. Simmer down, folks, this is going onto the slow burner.

* * *

1\. Bleak Snowfall

His fingers were like iron talons in the scavenger's hair, yanking her down into the cold snow. She'd almost bested him— _almost_ —but he fended her off, throwing her to her knees and ripping the lightsaber _he_ was heir to from her dirty hands. He'd suffered from its blade, a great, gaping gash running across his nose, cutting into his cheek. He could feel his blood running down and, were he more feral a creature, lick it from the corner of his lip. But he restrained, pulling hard at her head until she yelped.

"Bitch," he muttered, "did you think you'd conquer _me,_ girl?"

She stayed silent; her mind no doubt elsewhere with the traitor lying across the split ground. No matter, she did not need to answer now. She'd answer to more than him soon if he could drag her from these dark woods. He was lightheaded from the blood loss, but frenzied with adrenaline. He could last another half hour if he pushed.

Frustrated, he sent out for Snoke, a meek call for help. He had won, and he had the girl, but at the cost of his flesh. His legs would buckle with her weight if he tried to carry her and he knew time was running short—that he could feel in the soles of his boots.

He pressed hard into her mind, knocking her out cleanly before he slumped. His men knew him as an iron pillar wounded or not, but this girl could not see his base of sand. No, there was too much at stake. She needed to _fear_ him, to feel his threat as a constant miasma surrounding her completely. He _would not_ be weak before her.

"You look like you've been to hell and back," were the first words to break him from a failing meditative effort to stay conscious.

Ren glared up at Hux, blood caked in the cracks of his lips, dried and smeared around his nostrils and right eye. He looked worse than hell. "Get me to my ship," he said and stood shakily, brushing away from the troopers who attempted to help. "And don't bump her around too much. I need her clear-headed when she wakes."

"What do you intend to _do_ with the girl?" Hux asked as he quickened his pace to catch up with the swaying Ren. He took note of the hole in his back that cut through from the front of his cloak. A Force-forsaken _monster_ he was, Hux decided. It was a miracle he was even walking.

"Whatever the Supreme Leader commands I do. Snoke wanted her back, not I." If there were any color left in Ren's face, it was gone now; his lips white and eyes pallid. He wouldn't be on his feet much longer.

The gangway proved to be an effort, and the proud Ren struggled to refuse assistance, eventually giving in to two hands on his shoulders, guiding him forward as his mind kept straying into the black void eating at his vision. Hux sighed, as few things changed and Ren still made an incredible effort to prove he was the more stubborn of the two.

First thing in the fresher, he threw up. It was all red, metallic, and cruel. Saliva, stomach acid, and blood dribbled down his chin and the taste almost brought on a second bout of nausea. He'd overstressed his body and was paying in platelets.

"You're an idiot," came the muffled voice from behind the door.

There was the dry heave. He raised his head from the sink with difficulty, grateful Hux couldn't see. "And you're an ass for being late. Are we in hyperspace yet?"

"Yes. We're fifteen minutes to the fleet."

"Alert them that I need a transfusion immediately." His vision hadn't stopped hazing since he'd knocked out the girl. If it were a good day, he had lost no more than a liter.

"Will I have them pry you from the toilet as well?"

"No." He caught his reflection in the mirror, white as a ghost and stained crimson. With as much effort as he could spare, he washed the blood and acid from his face, watching it swirl down the drain with unfocused eyes. He hoped it was a good day.

The medical bay of the _Finalizer_ was enormous and stark white, a change from the gray metal of the ship's interior. The girl was taken to the other side as he was half-ushered, half-carried to a surgical theater. Iodine was swabbed onto the creases of his elbows as his thick cloak was cut away from his skin. The needles bit hard into his veins and the lights above beamed in full blare when the anesthesia hit, pulling him in slow motion to an exhausting sleep.

In the darkness, he recalled the time he fractured his arm as a child, how the bone had punctured his skin and bled. He had been rushed into surgery as his mother hollered at his father for taking his eyes away for one _damn_ second, all the while squeezing hard his uninjured hand. Her touch had been so cold as the shock set deeply in, causing him to shiver. She was in tears. _Ben, Ben…_

 _Ren._

Damn that title, damn it and its closeness to the name of the long-dead wide-eyed boy.

Kylo Ren awoke with pain in his teeth and heaviness in his eyes. He held back the bile that rose with the dream, hands bunched in the bedding. Sticky dressing stretched the skin of his nose and his chest was cold, bacta patches taped tightly around the bolt wound. His left arm itched from the catheter still feeding his veins and his shoulder stung so slightly with movement.

It took a moment to focus on Hux's frown. It _always_ had to be him, didn't it? Always Hux at the sidelines of his great fallings. Always Hux when he tripped up or stumbled. Man had a nose that smelled out promotions.

Ren cleared his throat, tongue rough and dry. "Report."

Hux narrowed his eyes; displeased with being ordered

 _Tough love,_ Ren thought, _I still outrank you_.

"The Supreme Leader demands your attendance as soon as physically possible. The girl is being chemically sedated for now, to be awoken upon your command."

"And the base evacuation?"

"At least ten carrier ships did not make it. Numbers are still coming through."

He nodded, settling down. "Do you know how long I was out?"

"Three hours. That blaster bolt was millimeters from nicking your intestines."

"Happy day."

Hux scowled so hard Ren thought the vein across his forehead was in danger of bursting. "You were almost _dead_ because of this newfound obsession."

"I was almost _dead_ because Han Solo kept a crossbow-wielding walking carpet for a best friend."

He deflated. "So you've done it, then."

"Yes. Old news." Ren began to absently pick at the tape on the catheter. "Tell Snoke I'll be up within the hour, later only if they insist I stay to make sure I'm cognizant."

"Noted." He gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

"And Hux?"

"Yes?"

"Did you find Phasma?"

He turned and hid a small smirk. "She's royally furious and still reeks of garbage."

"The whole gang's safe."

"For now, until I rip off Phasma's head and Snoke rips off yours."

He closed his eyes after Hux left, head throbbing, ears and eyes too sensitive to the waking world. They'd lost Starkiller Base, but he'd been strong in the dark side and killed his father. He'd been powerful enough. He'd _won._

Then why did he feel so…defeated? A sickness like grief crawled up his abdomen, sinking its claws into his stomach and twisting. It ached a fire in his limbs, the rattling of his teeth calling _traitor, traitor._ He wasn't the traitor. He'd been loyal, he'd completed his task, he'd followed his master. But he'd betrayed something deep inside, and it pricked his skin.

He had murdered his own _father_. The man who raised him, who called him son. And though he wanted to cry victory and celebrate his feat, he disgusted himself. Ren was quick to swallow the thick feeling and lock it far away in his atrophied heart. Now was not the time for crippling guilt.

Sitting up, he found his limbs movable but sluggish, as though his bones had been replaced with lead. His head still swam like a thousand fish and leaning over gave him the sensation that he might hurl. Every second said that he should not be approaching Snoke for at least a day, maybe two. But duty called, and duty ignored physical injuries.

A new robe and cloak were laid out beside the bed, along with his still-wet boots and new socks. His belt had a hole through it, but it little mattered—a meeting with the Supreme Leader was not the most formal of affairs. Dressed, he crossed the bay to take a look at the girl.

She was far back in a private room, machines and tubes hooked into her at different junctions. Her face was scrunched in dismay and anger, and she was the furthest painting from peaceful he'd seen in a while. Her knee jerked as he approached, and he could swear a whine curled in the back of her throat. He prodded at her mind tentatively, feeling for the link accidentally forged during her last interrogation.

Waves of emotion washed over him as he followed the line, fear coupled with spite. He felt pity when his knuckle grazed her forehead and recoiled, enraged that she actually _pitied_ him. She should be fearful, hateful, but not pitiful of him. It revolted Ren and his stomach threatened to rebel, forcing him to leave her be.

He had time to straighten her out. He had all the time in the world. With Snoke's guidance, he didn't even need that long. She would become a great apprentice to him, powerful and fortified in the ways of the Force, he would see to it.

Force, he needed to go back to _sleep_.

* * *

Time flowed backwards for Rey. Her shins dug into the cold ice of the forest ground, head aching from where it collided with the tree. The light was fading and her surroundings were blanketed in a blue tint. Her breath was white and foggy, a physical manifestation of her current state of mind. She raised her hand in a frantic plea, calling Luke's saber to her.

But _he_ was there standing over her. _He_ glared down through red-hued eyes; so darkly crimson they seemed to sizzle like hot coals on the snow of his sclera. His open mouth bared sharp, back-pointed teeth like those of a shark, meant to pull and never let go. A beast in a human's skin with a great black mane like a manka cat.

" _Monster_ ," she whispered into the softness of the air.

"Like none you've ever known."

He lifted her with the Force, setting her roughly on her feet, Luke's saber in his grip. Its silver hilt was thrust at her, blade sheathed and pointed at her heart.

She took it in shaking hands with fingers too numb to close.

With the fluidity and grace of a raptor, Kylo leaned down, near enough that he no doubt could smell her fear. "Make me proud."

Coat fluttering like wings he vanished from the dream, charcoal-black feathers scattered in his wake. Rey's stomach sunk with her knees as they slammed back into the frozen dirt. The creaking, gnarled trees groaned and she was alone. It was too difficult to stand and she opted to watch red droplets fall between her hands. Confused, she turned to look up into the canopy, choking on her heart as it struggled to clamber out of her throat at the sight.

Bodies swung from branches high above, still fresh, still bleeding. The legs of one kicked—a small boy—and a voice strangled with blood screamed. Hands brittle as ice, Rey scrambled into the trees, using the Force to aid her grip. She'd left Finn in the snow; she would not abandon another who needed her help. The trees were icy and her feet slid as she ran down a thick, twisting snake of a branch. Her mouth was too frostbitten and numb to call to him, to reassure him.

 _Just a few seconds more, hold on, hold on…_

Grabbing the boy's arm to lift him, she tried painfully to cut the rope with the lightsaber, its metal burning her palm. Slicing through, the branch collapsed, sending her and the small boy plummeting to the ground. Helpless, Rey roared at the Force to break their fall—and it listened, if only a little. She felt one of her ribs snap on impact, ice-white pain radiating like a poison through her chest. The rope, however, lay far away from the pair, curled and dead by the base of the tree. The boy coughed and curled in on himself. He was safe.

She had saved one, at least.

He sat up, weakly brushing powder from his dark curls. His nose had broken, the bridge crooked, blood steadily streaming across his lips and down his chin. But his eyes were alive with wonder, brown and green and full like stars.

In her room on the _Finalizer_ , a sedated Rey whimpered, tears falling from her unopened eyes.

* * *

Ren was out of breath by the time he got to the hallway before Snoke's chamber. The little energy he'd retained was whipping away, causing a horrible bout of dizziness to nestle into his temples. Which were, of course, throbbing worse than a bee sting. Kriffing Sith hells, he was a minute away from turning around and sleeping this all off. Aside from feeling sick, he was more likely to say something really stupid to Snoke, a slip-up that occurred with impeccable frequency when he was emotional, injured, or excited. A little of all three today was not an enviable hand of cards.

He bowed before the empty throne, shivering slightly at the coldness of the chamber. With tremendous effort, Ren raised his mental shields and coiled his body in preparation for the assault. Snoke was not happy—that much he could hear clearly through the murmuring of the Force.

The meters-tall hologram of the Supreme Leader snapped into existence, ominously casting blue light around the chamber walls.

Ren ducked his head harder against his chest. "Master."

"You have news for me, Kylo." Voice flat as always.

A tendril lashed against his mind and he resisted. "I am not without victories, small may they be."

"Some smaller than others. How is the pain?"

"Present." It was Snoke's idea to not allow him recovery in bacta tanks. Pain was his ally, but Force had it been years since he'd been this woozy with injury. "It fuels me."

"We are not Sith, boy. We do not bow to our feelings, something you struggle with greatly."

"Yes, master."

The Supreme Leader eased back on his throne. "Now, what is your news?"

"I fought the girl in the forest on Starkiller Base. She is more powerful in the Force than I originally gauged."

"So much so she almost killed you."

Ren bit his tongue but was unable to hide his growing sneer. "And I still won. Her grip is strong."

"Where is she now?"

"Sedated in the med bay, guarded by troopers."

"She escaped your men before."

"I intend to monitor her _personally_ this time." The words grit like sand against his teeth.

"Then do, and bring her before me when she wakes."

"Understood."

The hologram dissipated and Ren let his muscles relax with a long, groaning sigh. His joints felt locked in position and the act of standing made him sound like a geriatric. He so badly craved sleep that his walk from Snoke's chamber was a blur, his feet following a path from memory as his mind shut down.

His rooms were dark and pristine, unlike how he'd left them days prior. Beyond finished with being conscious, he left a trail of clothing from the closed door to the bed, all but throwing himself on top of the sheets. Sleep was a loving mistress and Kylo Ren plunged into a dreamless void.

In the darkness was a light.

It touched his face with nimble fingers and he was back on the bridge, lightsaber in hand. This time, he dropped the weapon and let it roll to the floor stories below. The father took his son into his arms as the boy cried undignified, clutching at his shoulders. He was no more than a child, scared and trying to hide in the folds of his father's coat.

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

 _I don't know who I've become_.

"Nor do I."

Kylo glanced up into a new face, one unfamiliar and warm. The eyes were not his father's and the robes he wore recalled an image of his uncle. A hand brushed tears from his cheek and he looked away in shame, embarrassed by his display in front of the stranger.

"Who are you now?"

His voice faltered. "I don't know."

"Do you know who I am?"

"No."

"Think."

"You're a Jedi."

"Getting warmer. I'll ask again in time." The man smiled, setting his hands on Kylo's shoulders. "We've got a bet running about you." He kissed the top of his head. "Prove me right."

The man flickered into brightness before vanishing. Kylo fell to his knees, once again alone in the murky darkness. "Don't leave me, father," he said in a weak voice, fingers lacing into the holes of the grated floor. "Please don't leave."

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's the beginning wrap! The story will contain bits from the EU/Legends, but will try to draw mostly on canon, which will be difficult since only one of the three new movies is out.

It's hard to improve without critique and I welcome all well-formed thoughts and criticisms with open arms. Anything good, anything bad, I want to know so I can make it better. Especially characterization; that's the first thing to throw me out of a story.


	2. Hair Tie

2\. Hair Tie

Rey awoke hours after her dreams ended, head more muddled than clear. The image of the boy became fainter the longer her eyes were open. The room that greeted her vision was dusky, the lights dimmed to present a fabricated night. The Force tickled her senses in the dark, telling her there were others around her, but her ability to read it wasn't refined enough to know who or how many.

As her sight adjusted, she could make out a figure in black slumped in the corner, bundled uncomfortably on a too-small chair. His black hair fell across a white bandage, brow furrowed in a tense dream.

Oh, Force, that was Kylo Ren. Rey glanced quickly at the machines she was hooked into, trying to gauge how much time she would have before he woke. Would they beep if she pulled the wrong way? Did she have guards? She definitely had guards. She could hurl one machine at the guards and—

A coal-red eye opened to a lazy slit. "Don't waste your energy on it."

How the _hell_ did he know what she was going to do?

He smirked now, sitting up. "You're an easy read. Untrained, unguarded, no mental shields to defend yourself."

She held back a feral desire to hiss.

"I can help, though. I can train you."

"I don't want your help."

"That's not your decision to make, now is it, girl?" He stood slowly, pacing to the foot of her bed. She was floored by the height of him. Tall, like his grandfather before him. Impossibly tall and surprisingly wiry.

She sneered. "Do you then intend to force me to learn?"

"I intend for you to _listen_ to me!" His demeanor flipped and the machines in the room crushed inward on themselves. Anger pulsed through the air at her; a bent fury that rattled down her frame. He forced her to look at him, his lips pulled back in a snarl _._ "You will do as I command," his voice rumbled in a smooth, calm tone, "and there will be no arguments today, understood?"

Rey nodded while trying to penetrate his mind and fight back.

The maskless monster howled and retaliated with honed strength, snapping her backwards and setting her head on fire. " _STOP!_ "

She froze, new pains storming through her nerves. Her side ached, her head ached…her side ached?

Myriad cuts and bruises were spread across her skin, but she did not remember taking a blow to her side. Except…

Kylo's eyes flickered from glaring blaster bolts at her head to curiosity at her left flank. She moved too quickly and winced, trying to retract and fade into the bedding.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"What _happened?_ " Sheets flew down when he jerked his hand.

Rey scrambled for modesty, left only in her underclothes and wanting to be dead before being laid bare before this beast.

An external thought prodded at her. _I cannot be brought to care about your body in that way._ Yeah, well, she wasn't buying it, not with him wearing _that_ face.

His gloved fingers drew nearer and she swatted at him, teeth bared. In turn, Kylo scowled and grabbed her wrists in his other hand. She went to kick and he moved gracefully out of range, reaching to pull up her undershirt.

"I am trying to _help_ ," he said with a false calmness in his strained voice.

"You can help by leaving it be."

"No."

She grit her teeth as the leather of his glove grazed her side, his touch gentle and calculated. His eyes did not widen at the bruise, purple and red and blooming across her side to both her chest and back. "Dear girl, I feel this will be commonplace with you." He breathed out forcefully through his nose, his touch light as he covered her skin. "I can have it mended now or after, your choice."

"After what?"

"After I bring you to Snoke. That you cannot injure yourself out of."

Her eyes went wide. "I am _not_ —"

"Not in your stars, girl, not your choice."

"Stop _calling_ me _girl!_ "

"Before or after, _Rey?_ "

"…I take it back, call me girl." _I don't like the sound of my name from your mouth._

"Well then I have to use your name, now don't I? Now answer the question. Personally, I'd rather do it before."

"Why, so you can have me all pristine and groomed before your master? A pretty little present, is that it?"

He barked a laugh. "I look like a nexu's sunk more than its claws into me and you think I care about how _you_ look in front of _my_ master? More than I care about how _I_ present?"

She looked away, yanking her fists from his grasp. "Whatever you prefer."

He sighed, fed up. "Fine. Hold still."

Rey's head whipped back around, fear wildly displayed across her face.

Kylo hiked her shirt up, this time with a sense of hurriedness, as though he were about to commit a delicate crime. She yelped at the sudden movement and he silenced her with a gaze of pure malice. Both gloves off, he laid his cold, bare fingertips on her skin, cilia-like arms of the Force rippling into her muscles and tissue. It was an odd but not entirely painless sensation.

"It's only a crack, not a full break."

His voice was so soft it caught her off guard. Eyes closed and face scrunched, he looked somewhat tortured as he kneeled beside her, weaving her bone together with the Force.

"How are you…"

Eyes snapped open, red-brown and furious. "Let me concentrate."

If he wanted to look tortured and in pain over this, fine, let him. She'd be in better condition to fight him off and get the hell out of here when he finished.

He chuckled before placing his palms fully against her ribs. "You can _try_ , Rey, but that won't work."

"Then I'll do something else."

"Talking is not helping this go faster. Quiet."

She was silent for the next fifteen minutes, only making a sound when the crack set back together and surged a pain like lightning up her spine. Kylo made no noise either; though he proceeded to look more and more strained the longer it took.

"I didn't know the Force could heal."

Carefully he pulled her shirt down to cover her bruised skin having only attended the bone. He spoke softly to her as though she were his familiar, somehow forgetting the time and place. "I was trained as a Sentinel long before I embraced the dark side, but healing, especially in a war-torn climate, was emphasized." Rey watched closely as a lightness, so faintly touching his face, faded with his good mood and a black look fell over his eyes, irises almost jet in color. "That was long ago. Up. We have business to attend, you and I."

She couldn't get him to leave the room while she changed ("I don't trust you further than you can throw me and I doubt you could even _pick me up,_ ") but he did turn around, leaving her with a little sliver of privacy. Which, of course, was quickly gone as he pushed for her to hurry up across their link. The sooner she could snap that thing off, the better.

The clothes she was given were not the ones she boarded with and a pang of homesickness fluttered in her chest. All of her things were being taken away—clothes, staff, lightsaber, gear—and replaced with new, darker items. Ones that did not make her feel like herself. The dark brown leather of the vest on the nightstand smelled of fresh polish, the gloves were dark and not creased, made of material smoother than satin under her rough skin. New, like what they wanted to make her. New, dark, and cold, like beams of impure steel. Muscle memory rounded her hair up to bun before her fingers found a bare wrist and slipped. No elastic. Rey let her hands drop to her sides, the growing loneliness inevitable. She tied her hair up the same way her mother had before they'd been separated, a last cry of home. But…she'd lost even that.

If they were trying to make her docile, crush her will, they'd taken a good bite, but she wouldn't be subdued easily. She had no clue what to fight for now…now that Han was gone, Finn lost, Luke out of grasp…but Force alive, she would fight. For anything, everything, and nothing. She was alone again and her only objective was to survive.

"I need to put my hair up."

Leaning against the doorway, Kylo cocked an eyebrow, arms folded across his chest. "You _need_ to?"

Pedantic bastard. "A tie, a string, cloth—can I have something?"

Without a word, he exited her small room, inclining her to follow by tugging at her feet with a small Force pull. Rifling through a closet that sat between two bays, he uncovered a primitive roll of gauze and threw it at her, reluctant to have it in his hands for more than a second. "Don't waste it."

Rey caught it with her fingertips and tore off a section with difficulty. This would have to do for now. _Better than nothing_ , she soothed and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. It wouldn't stay long and hopefully neither would she.

Kylo walked behind her as he ushered her to his master, switching the direction of her feet when it was time to turn. She nearly tripped more than once and twice tried to book it—he got upset about that and jerked hard on her hair. Her scalp was sore by the time she was shuffling down the long entryway to the chambers that hosted the leader of the First Order. She'd only heard whisperings of this Snoke, and what got passed in gossip was never much. People at the outpost never liked to mention his name, especially while the sun was going down. She figured he had to be some sort of evil boogeyman, maybe with only one eye and half a nose. Or perhaps his appearance was unfortunate for his title and he was short with brightly colored hair and pink cheeks. Kylo seemed to choke as he intercepted that thought.

The room on the inside was empty. There was a high throne that looked to be fashioned from ice. Frosted fingers climbed like white ivy from the back of the room to the front, chilling the space. Her breath came out in clouds and she was called back to cold desert nights during the dry season, her fingers always blue, her shelter never warm enough to still her shaking bones. This room, the coldness seemed to suck all happiness away and into the dark edges of the chamber. For the first time since waking she felt truly frightened.

Kylo knelt and dragged her down beside him, his head pressed to his chest. She frowned, but did not bow her head. She had no loyalties to this Snoke; he deserved none of her respect. The chill in the room, though, made her unsteady in her determination.

Before she could ask why the hell they were genuflecting to empty space, a hologram snapped into existence. It took up the whole of the chamber, reaching the ceiling and dwarfing the mock throne on the dais. The man towering above had a lop-sided face, scars and burns covering old, taut skin. Snoke seemed to be timeless and she was struck hard with the air of archaic knowledge and founded power. What he possessed himself was unimportant; it was all about whom he commanded.

"Rise." His voice boomed in the circular room.

Kylo stood quickly while Rey was slower to her feet, brain still piecing together her new situation. If _he_ were ever to be on board this ship, or if his presence were to come closer to her, she would not make it back to the Resistance with light in her heart and mind. Long-armed cilia of the Force slithered around her ankles, filling her with a sense of unease that knotted in the pit of her stomach. It lapped around her like a murky river, clouded and dangerous. It made her feel _alive_. Powerful. But damaged, incomplete. To give in would mean living a half-life.

"So this is the scavenger girl." Snoke's black eyes focused on Rey and she shivered. "She feels promising."

"I guarantee she is more than that."

Rey didn't like how this felt, being talked about as if she weren't in the room.

"How do you intend to show me when you yourself have not completed your training?"

Snoke was, surprisingly, not heckling his apprentice. He was calm and cool, unlike Kylo, who was bursting with excitement beside her.

"I will bring her to my level and we will continue together."

Hold on now, she wanted no part of this.

She didn't want the lightsaber, the Force sensitivity, the destiny—none of it. She was not born with greatness, and neither did she want it thrust upon her. Lastly—maybe not lastly, but nowhere near the front of her wishes—she did _not_ want to work under _him_. Vicious, monstrous, unpredictable Kylo Ren. Soft whispers in her ears called for her to consider otherwise, to think about giving in and letting go.

"While I am open to suggestions, this one sounds counterproductive." The bizarre alien folded his hands, mouth in a thin line. "We will resume your training tomorrow. I would like for you to bring the girl back to me for her own lessons when you are done."

"I need a day to repair my lightsaber."

Snoke tilted his head, slowly and pointedly aiming his gaze. "You will not need that just yet. Work on it in your own time."

Kylo seemed to fight himself to speak out. "I will."

"We will speak again at 0700 hours."

The image of the Supreme Leader receded and Rey was released from the ever-blackening ocean that had been threatening to swallow her whole. In no universe was she going to be able to withstand being with Snoke alone. His voice still grated in her mind, raking at her ears. Her breath heavy, she took a moment to balance herself before looking up into the maddened ruby eyes of her gatekeeper.

* * *

"I don't want him training you."

Ren was surprised the words came from his mouth and not a manifestation of id seated atop his shoulder.

Rey did well to hide her confusion. "Nor do I, but your hesitation is unexpected."

 _So were my dreams_ , he thought grimly, _and the fact that I healed you._ His palms still burned from that act of light, of reaching into her and mending her wounds. He was perplexed by the action and couldn't formulate a decent reason about what made him do it. Because he was tired? No, he was way more likely to snap and bite while groggy. The dream the night before, or maybe what he'd done on that bridge? He hoped not; that would mean he was getting weak. _Weak enough to heal the girl_ , an inner voice pointed out. No, not weak, but gentle. A gentleness he had not let another see in years. Even when they had been younger, he and the other two who walked beside him on this ship, Kylo Ren was not gentle, not in this way. While it sickened and confused him, he did not deny his curiosity for the scavenger girl. She was not basked in the light like his former master, but neither was she cloaked in darkness. And the warmth he felt when he had pressed his hands to her broken side…

No. Not now. Not here.

"You can be better utilized than what he plans to do with you. He will make you dark, I can make you strong." What? Was he now suddenly _deranged?_ Snoke could do _both_. He was wise and had unthinkable skills, ones Ren had not seen elsewhere in the galaxy. Then why, Force _why_ , did he not want the girl to train under his master as well?

 _When he gets what he wants, he'll crush you._

He didn't want to hear the truth in those words. One better plaything after the other.

Rey's voice snapped him back to the present. "I don't want either."

"Unless you escape, you have little say." He turned to exit the chamber, not slowing as her footsteps scrambled to keep up.

She swore under her breath, something short of calling him a horrendous tree of a man. "What do _you_ intend to do with me?"

"Teach you. How to meditate, how to control your actions, how to seek answers and call." He gave her a glance, sending her a thought, _How to communicate wordlessly._

"I don't see much of a use for that except you prying at my mind."

"It can be helpful. Heat of battle, moment of weakness."

"I won't be so weak as to call for you."

Ren rolled his eyes, quickening his step. She groaned in frustration but remained silent for the rest of the walk, stopping when he did before a tall gray door.

He punched a code in quickly and stripped his right hand of its glove. Pressing on the scanner, he winced in pain before biting back on the urge to groan. His palm _burned_ at the touch, skin ripe and red.

"Where does this lead?" she asked as the door slid open.

"My quarters. Come." When she refused, he drew her forward with a Force pull.

Ren flicked lights on throughout the room. "You'll be sleeping here until proper arrangements can be made. I will _not_ be staying here with you, get that thought out of your dirty head, Rey."

She colored a formidable pink, sending him a frantic _I didn't think that up!_

"Intentional or not, you did." She had a strange, unsettling, somewhat perverted idea about the circumstances presented, and of him. "I'm not going to touch you without your permission."

He went back to getting ready to leave his space in the girl's hands, ignoring her discomfort.

She edged into the front room, following on autopilot. "You have a lot of…flimsiplasts."

"Many more in other places. You're free to read them if any catch your interest." Pressing forward, he tidied the mess of clothes and towels he left in the morning. "The fresher is attached to the bedroom. The sheets are new, as are the blankets and pillowcases—" He stopped, glancing back at her. She was looking at him with a mix of perturbation and confusion. "What?"

"You're being…mild." She hugged her arms to her chest. "It's uncomfortable."

"Would you prefer I break things and yell?"

Her gaze flitted away, conflicted.

"My objective here isn't to torture or hurt. You are my charge, to be given fair treatment like all who serve on this ship."

"Does everyone else get to sleep in your bed too?"

"If you prefer the _couch_ , that's perfectly fine as well."

"Do they?"

He sighed, glowering. "I barely get to sleep in my bed."

That was good enough to satisfy her.

"Are you tired yet?"

"A little."

"I will be in the room adjacent. If you need anything, let me sleep if it can be dealt with in the morning."

He gave her a curt nod and stepped out, locking his rooms to open to nothing but his touch. Exhausted and stupefied with his behavior, he opened the guest room separate from his quarters and stripped of his heavy cloak, meandering to the fresher to splash much needed cold water on his face.

* * *

Rey couldn't sleep. Lying half-clothed under Kylo Ren's sheets was too perverse an image even though she was alone. The bedding smelled of what she now recognized as fresh flowers and smoky wood—two things she wouldn't associate with him in a million years. The satin of the sheets was cool and the room was rightfully dark. He kept his space neat with no flimsies or datapads scattered on the flat surfaces. The night table had only a lamp and a clock, and the desk across the room looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Contrary to what she'd heard about the First Order and their rampant speciesism, Kylo decorated his walls with art from other races, all beautiful and flowing, depicting seas and skies, both night and day. If it told anything more about who he was, she was missing the hint.

She was itching to explore the bureau on the far right of the room, but had a suspicion he'd know if she started to rifle through his stuff.

 _I would_. _Go to sleep_.

 _You first_.

He sent her a grumble across their connection, prodding her to get some rest. She rolled over, a little distressed that he continued to flip between a pissed-off nexu and a slightly-evil mother hen. If he could just _pick one_ , she wouldn't have to constantly second-guess his mood.

Inching further under the covers, Rey closed her eyes and tried to quiet her mind. Whether by her own tiredness or his Force suggestions, she drifted into a restless unconsciousness plagued by dreams of a star-eyed child with a galaxy in his dark hair, constellations and planets swimming in a black primordial soup.

* * *

Kylo Ren couldn't sleep, twisting half-awake to the embarrassment of his own idiocy. What the kriff was he thinking? _I'll train you_. He wasn't even trained himself! And now he was going to take on an apprentice? What was he _thinking?_ Yesterday in the forest he had wanted to torture this girl into submission and _make_ her fear him like she feared death, but now he was fussing about and being _nice_. He wasn't nice, he was—

All right, this wasn't being nice, but it wasn't being antagonistic. Which was pretty much the same thing, right?

These were his awful decision-making skills shining sourly through. Hux had the damn _fleet_ , Phasma had her troopers, and he had…six knights. Six compared to the thousands of souls the rest of the triumvirate was responsible for. It wasn't a wonder he had the least serving directly under him with the way he managed to keep acting like a bantha-brained lunatic.

Wasn't Vader collected and cool-headed? What had kept him from not blowing up at minor inconveniences? A matter of years or a matter of person?

 _No, it was a lack of this_ , he thought as he approached sleep. It was the light that ran its fingers through his black hair, smoothing down his worries. It was his siren that beckoned hazily in the night, seducing him with soft tones and warm rays. Vader did not have to deal with this; he was not torn alive by the struggle of the Force within him.

Ren buried his head under a pillow, staving off the song for another night.

 _Soon, you will come_ , the light reminded as it was swallowed by darkness.

* * *

 **A/N:** The antagonist makes some bad decisions, must be those Solo genes. He seems to be pretty impressionable after waking from a dream, which isn't going to help his cause very much. I feel like my characterization for him might be a _little_ shaky, but I promise he'll get more comprehensible once the tedious setup is complete.

I think I'll have one or more two chapters up before Monday, then start with a Friday-or-Sunday schedule from there on.


	3. Whisky Stones

3\. Whisky Stones

There was a comfort in a luxurious bed that she had never before known. For the first time in what felt like ages, Rey woke without feeling cramped in her space or achy from having slept on a body part in a funny way. She could get used to this, the softness of the pillows, the smooth sheets, the black mask staring at her from across the—

Rey shrieked and hurled a pillow on instinct, fingers clasping onto anything that could be a projectile to reload for a second attack.

Kylo Ren let the feather pillow hit his chest and fall pitifully to the floor before walking around the bed.

 _"I could have been naked!"_

"Your training begins now. Up."

"Are you just going to _ignore_ that!?" She was startled, she was startled and livid and in _no mood_. "It's—" she glanced at the clock, "it's not even 0600 hours, I've barely been _asleep_!"

"Do you want to survive your go with Snoke later, or do you want to crawl away meekly to lick your wounds when he finishes with you?"

She laughed, not in good humor. "So instead you plan to steal me away in the night like some musical prodigy of old?"

"And here I thought you were an uncultured desert girl." He leaned down, mask impassive. " _Up._ "

Rey was hauled around with her clothes on half correctly (she had a mind to think he _enjoyed_ making her change quickly without privacy), going down one turbolift, up another, and through four corridors before she was hastily shuffled into a room. The walls looked cushioned and the space was small—almost cozy—with a low floor and soft seating. She went down three short stairs and stood in the center, waiting for her dark kidnapper to give her instructions that could be no more ridiculous than the given situation.

"You show aptitude in the Force," he said as he strode to her. "Specifically in simple _youngling_ abilities. Today you will work above the level of a five year old."

"Do you need to wear that mask?"

"I am your master now, you _will not_ question me."

"I didn't sign up for this."

"All of this I am not doing for me. _You_ will be the one in that chamber being grilled; _you_ will be the one whose mind and weaknesses will be open before Snoke. _I_ am not the one in danger; that is _you_. Now do you want to protect yourself, or do you want to give me lip?"

What Rey thought was, _I want to give you a_ punch _to the lip with a metal gauntlet on._ However, she said, "I want to protect myself."

"Then do as I say." He brushed by her, flipping a switch that brought a table up from the floor on the left half of the room. It too was white and cushioned, a mirror sitting on its circular top. "I want you to stir the water."

"Water?"

If masks could display an eye roll, his would. He pointed her at it. "Go on."

The mirror was not a mirror but a shallow basin of clear water. It filled from a pipe below so the level was almost even with the disc's lips. She looked incredulously from the water back to him. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"Concentrate. Meditate. Quiet your mind of all else but the task at hand. Once you learn to meditate, clearing your mind in defense will not be so daunting a task. It is a skill you will need to progress with Snoke."

Well, it couldn't be that hard could it?

Rey approached the table, kneeling down on a soft cushion. It was lower to the ground than she was expecting and she could see the whole of the ceiling in the basin. Gently, she tried to stir the water.

To no effect.

And again!…

Not a droplet out of place.

He was suddenly behind her and she jumped. "Clear your mind. The fact that you didn't sense me was bad. Keep trying. I will return for you in a matter of hours."

"Where are you going?"

"I also have training, remember?"

He bowed out of the room and it was dead quiet. The looming, heartbeats are audible quiet. Complete and utter creepy silence.

Breathe in, breathe out, and try again.

Rey was no stranger to being damn near stupid when it came to learning new skills. Piloting? That wasn't something that caught on quickly. She spent hours and hours with that simulator failing miserably until finally, something just _clicked_ and it all made clear sense. She hoped meditation wouldn't take nearly so long, but she would be prepared for the learning curve.

Quiet her mind…easier said than done. The first time she forced the room from her thoughts, she saw that mask. It crept up out of charcoal colored flames, fire dancing on his shoulders and his blade, a trail of cinders in his wake. The man the mask made was vicious, crueler than the gatekeeper who gave up his bed and rooms for her. The man the mask made had a darkness in him that would never be extinguished, forever to burn alongside the visage of his grandfather.

Rey's eyes opened and she was pulled back to the table, sweat prickling her brow. A cold shiver trickled down her back and she had to take a moment to breathe. She supposed that's not what he meant when he said to keep a clear head.

Take two.

She was in the white woods again, Finn's body lying next to her. Kylo Ren was nowhere to be seen and she could not stop crying. Tears pooled in her eyes and ran down her face, falling softly on her friend's cheeks. He was cold under her hand, colder than the ground below. The puddles of blood said he was dead here, never to wake from a frosted grave. She didn't know, though. She didn't know if he'd lived or perished, not after getting that wound. Reaching out, she couldn't feel him through the Force, but neither could she feel Ren, who she knew was close by with a beating heart. The thought of this scene being a reality made her chest ache.

Eyes open, water stagnant. Face wet. Face very, very wet.

The third time, she saw the child with stars for eyes. He was young, far younger than she. He was missing a front tooth but made every excuse to smile. He brightened the darkness before her, happier than she'd ever seen another person—happier than she thought imaginable. Almost glistening, his eyes knew the way. He took her by the hand and ran giddily as children do, showing her out of a jungle and onto a beach with aquamarine waves and a cobalt sky. The water seemed to listen to him as he ran towards the shore, sweeping back to grant him passage. "Like this," he told her, giggling as he commanded the mighty ocean. She mimicked him, water swirling like dancing fairies around her ankles. "This way?" she asked. He nodded, smiling brightly.

"Exactly like that."

Kylo sat across from her, helmet on his lap. He looked up from the whirling water to her, his dark eyes full with pride. Something about his expression caught her breath and for a fleeting moment everything clicked. Everything— _everything about the metaphysics of the situation_ —made sense. But as soon as she grasped why, the answer ran like sand from her fingers.

The water in the dish slowed to a ripple and stopped, surface even and smooth. At a loss for words, Rey stared down at its steadiness, barely aware that she had been controlling its flow.

"You're back already?"

"I've been gone for hours, you just lost track of time. I do it too whenever I'm meditating." He stood and replaced his helmet on his head. "Now, however, it is time for you to see Snoke."

"I don't think I'm ready."

"Doesn't matter now, there's no more stalling left to do."

Defeated is how she would describe her walk to the Supreme Leader's chamber. Kylo Ren spoke to her no words, taking her in a new turnabout direction that was nothing like the last. She felt helpless and cold, dragging her feet down metal walkways and worn out carpets. With the mask on, he was no longer an amicable figure and therefore no help to her fraying mind. Why hadn't she tried to escape when he left her to meditate? Was there some awful part of her that wanted to stay and learn from these two loony darkside users? Possibly, but she didn't want to pick into it at the moment. She didn't want to pick into it ever—her own temptations frightened her, and she had no desire to become the monster behind her. She needed to remember he was a monster and not some safety net to catch her from falling to an even bigger beast.

He left her there in the hall alone, disappearing like smoke into a cool night's breeze. She knelt, knowing not what else to do. The moments it took for the hologram to flicker into view felt like an aching eternity, her mind wandering off to claw at its own fears.

 _Quiet your thoughts_.

She breathed in and out, focusing on the stars. The dark Force chilled its way up her legs like slimy vines as she stood, slithering soundlessly on her skin until she felt its weight on her shoulders and back.

Snoke looked down at her, black eyes void of emotion. "He tells me he has not tampered with you, but you already know of things you can do."

"I learn by watching," she said smoothly, willing herself to keep calm.

"You have watched my apprentice with much enthusiasm, and now you will watch me."

His grasp on her mind was light but searing. Her temples flew into a fire, body rejecting and repelling the best it could. But lo, up from her toes it spread, a cooling drench of rain on her burning skin that yearned for reprieve. Her veins stopped pulsing and her head began to clear. In her mind's eye, she could see the blood flowing through her in a violet light, dark and washing. Her muscles tensed and relaxed and internal conflicts of fighting or fleeing crashed against each other. She felt new and ancient, born again and dead. The _power_ of it though, it taunted her in ways she did not know she wanted.

 _You can save Finn,_ it whispered. _You can save him and yourself, your friends. All you need is the power to do so, the power of the darkness. Your family is waiting, Rey._

With an animalistic howl, Rey collapsed on all fours, arms shaking. Her lips wanted to taste the forbidden nectar once more, only once more, but her mind started to shut down all unnecessary lines of thought. She looked up to see that Snoke was pleased, but was not allowing herself to know why or how.

"You've done well, my new apprentice."

Standing, she nodded.

"Kylo Ren will know when next to bring you to me. Follow your wants, girl, they reflect your true self." His image vanished and she moved mechanically back to the entrance, eyes not seeing her surroundings.

She was dulled until she caught ember-black eyes examining her.

"Fresher," she uttered in a monotone.

"Pardon?"

"I need one, now."

A thought clicked in his head and he grabbed her wrist, racing down the corridor to the nearest one—an officer's fresher—and booted the key, almost shoving her inside.

Face to face with a toilet, she puked her guts up, telling the bowl all her secrets. After being hungry for the past few hours, her appetite ceased to exist. She'd always done this in twos as a child—her stomach bugs demanded two sacrifices at a time to be appeased. Thankfully, she had outgrown the habit. No blood in the bowl, not a problem. The paleness of her face in the mirror when she made it to the sink, though, was a problem. The artery in her neck had the color of a fresh bruise and her eyes looked darker than usual. Not as dark as mask boy's outside, but not their normal bright hazel. For the first time, she did not see her mother's eyes in her reflection.

"Have you finished dying yet?" Kylo was half in the doorway, partially awkward, partially grossed out, altogether looking unsure of what he ought to be doing.

With great effort, she lifted her gaze to him, white as a sheet. "I don't feel well."

"You just threw up, of course you don't feel well." Here came evil mama hen, Rey could see it. "I had intended to spar with you after you saw Snoke—" she cringed visibly at the name, "—but you look such a mess that I would rather you not vomit all over the training room floor."

"I want to spar."

"Not now." He moved her from the sink with a hand on her shoulder. "You're getting fluids and rest."

"Are you always this motherly?"

His eyebrows rose so high they were in danger of flying off his face. She looked up at him with equal parts confusion and horror, not sure what made the words leave her mouth.

"I am not motherly," he gritted through an even tone, "and we will speak no more on it. Making sure my apprentice doesn't sick herself into dehydration is not the same as being maternal. Besides, you're worthless to me dead; it would be unwise to endanger your health."

Now that he mentioned it, her head did feel rather hot.

She was brought back to his quarters and a tiny medi-droid was brought to the front room in case she needed anything. He all but fussed her into bed, having her temperature taken and a drop of blood drawn. Or, she thought he was fussing, she wasn't sure. Reality got a little hazy after they stepped out of the fresher so it was possible he was bossing her around or reciting an epic ballad of the forest in perfect Shyriiwook, Rey was none the wiser. She wanted a mother figure to comfort her; perhaps she was projecting her wants onto his actions.

"Kylo?"

He stopped his exit and turned to the sorry sight of her buried in pillows and blankets. "Yes?"

"You said you wouldn't touch me without my permission."

He looked pained. "Are you really upset about that?"

"No, I just wanted to know if you were." She nestled deeper into the bedding. "You have good taste in pillows."

Puzzled and amused, he flashed something that could be considered a smirk. "Go to sleep, you feverish, silly girl."

* * *

The knock on Phasma's door was unexpected but not unwelcome. She opened it with a button on her desk, not wasting her time to glance away from the datapads scattered before her.

"Whisky with lunch?" Kylo Ren asked in that dreadful affected voice.

"I always need a drink when you're around."

"Precognizant now? I never knew you were a Force user."

"Call it older sibling intuition."

He sat down in the chair across from her and removed his helmet. "Funny, I don't remember being related to you."

"Not by blood, but you are, unfortunately." She looked up finally and noted the hairline of red-pink that fractured his face halfway. "Finally got yourself a battle wound?"

"A gift from the plucky scavenger girl. She's a little rough."

"With the way you sound at night I was under the impression you liked rough women."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you better than Hux."

"Hux did hate you for the first two months, which certainly contributed."

"I thought he still hated me?"

"Now I think it's more of a…friendly disdain." She took a second glass from her bottom desk drawer and wordlessly offered him a drink, which he accepted with a nod. "He's still mad about the Mandalore Incident."

"Really? That was ages ago." Kylo Ren took a sip and made a face. "What _is_ this?"

"My good stuff, don't spit it out."

"Wasn't going to. It's not bad, just has an unexpected kick." He took another taste, this time with less pain in his expression. "So Hux is angry with me about that, but not you?"

"He never stays mad with me for long."

"Why is that?"

"I have breasts and he thinks he has a chance."

Her guest was a quiet a moment before he choked laughing, his face turning a brilliant shade of red. " _Please_ don't tell me he thinks we're still playing _that_ game."

"He also thinks he's taller than me, or at least his body language does." She shrugged. "He is a sad, strange little man."

"Have you told him off? I remember when you told _me_ off for it—didn't sleep for a week, worried you were about to burst into my room and drag me down the hall by my ankles to the air lock and fling me into space."

"Nope." She rearranged her datapads, pulling up inventory spreads. "I do not talk back to commanding officers."

"Even while off-duty?"

"Never."

"Hmm." He frowned, leaning back. "He told me he was going to rip you to pieces over the Base."

"He said all of five minutes on the recklessness of the situation then gave me grief for another two. I asked to be demoted, as I should have been, and he refused." She set her work down and folded her hands. "But you haven't come to talk about our favorite general, have you?"

"Shoot me if I ever do." He finished his drink and put it neatly on her desk. "Would you care to spar, Captain?"

• • •

Phasma waited in the middle of one of the practice rooms as Kylo Ren clumsily attached armor to his lanky frame…or tried to. He favored a heavy-handed style of combat but lacked the bulk to back up his power and he fit in virtually nothing because of it. If it were up to her, he would have had far more physical training than mental conditioning for battle—fat lot of good that had been so far.

"There is no way you are the tallest stormtrooper," he said while going through an arrangement of shin guards that were almost, but not quite, long enough for his legs.

"I am not the tallest, but heights around and above two meters are uncommon."

"Do we not keep training spares?"

So he usually sparred weaponry sans protection. Not smart, but she was not about to comment. "Not frequently."

Swearing, Kylo Ren stood and took off his borrowed shoulder pads. "I've changed my mind. I would in fact rather go hand-to-hand."

Phasma nodded and began to strip her armor down to the body glove worn underneath, thankful she did not have to deal with a hindered and potentially frustrated Kylo Ren in the combat ring. Boots off, she padded onto the synthwood floor. Though she preferred hand-to-hand combat, the feeling of cold air on her scalp was unpleasant, a reminder that she was unguarded.

"No Force tricks and no head shots," she warned as he joined her on the opposite side of the room.

"Then I have no chance of winning."

She smirked. "Good."

Phasma felt a disadvantage in her rusty stance until he made a mess of his footwork. She began with her left foot planted forward with her right leg trailing, one arm raised in preparation. He mirrored her but changed the position a little, showing favoritism of his right side. He would over-guard his left and she would break through his wall easily.

The dance starts with an arc of her body, the hard bone of her forearm crashing into his bicep. Ducking his counter she knocks his leg with hers and widens his stance. Not smart. He pivots, elbow to her upper arm, knee almost to her ribs. Catch his foot, twist, send him to the floor.

She retreated a few steps and took up a new stance while waiting for him to recover. "You're unfocused," she said as he repositioned his feet. "Big movements mean big openings."

"I forgot you were good at this," he grumbled, rubbing his back.

"I train the best therefore I have to be the best."

He begins with a kick to the ribs, hands catching her wrists as she deflected. Momentum against her, he flips her over his shoulders. Hitting the ground, he rolls and pins her with a knee.

"Risky," she started, pushing him off, "but well executed."

"A bit dirty?"

"Like grit-black snow. But battle is dirty, not honorable."

She starts and bobs under his guard, delivering a chop to his side. He buckles. Trip him with both legs, pull away, elbow between his shoulders.

"Enemies come in all heights and weights. I match your stature but others will not."

"You think it would be easier to fight someone shorter."

She stood and offered him a hand. "The smaller someone is, the easier it is to penetrate a badly guarded low defense."

"You also hit a fresh wound."

"Learn from the practice, don't excuse your failure."

They went twice more before Phasma called the session to halt. She had work to get back to, and while showing up Kylo Ren on the training room floor was something in which she took silent joy, she had other commitments.

"You intend to ask me to train her," she said, breaking the light silence as she fastened her thigh plates.

He did up his boots. "I hadn't intended to, no. I thought I could use a refresher course before I taught her."

"You fight like a melee brawler or someone caught up in a bar fight. It's not refined."

"I recall it being _you_ in most of the bar fights, not Hux or me."

A memorable scene swam into her head. Both boys (as they had been mere boys at the time) stood back slightly frightened when she broke a bottle over a disgusting excuse for a creature's head. Rage had boiled her then like it never had when she wasn't in cheap dives in the bad parts of cities. Phasma so rarely broke composure that the incident had no doubt stuck with her companions as well, forming their view of her as the uptight dominatrix not to be crossed. Inwardly, she was quite fond of the look of horror they gave her afterward.

Outwardly, she shrugged. "Too many people couldn't keep their hands off my ass."

"Was that the reason we stopped sneaking out whenever planetside?"

"No, we stopped because we grew up." She fastened her cape and took her helmet under her arm. "I can offer you one of my men to help train the girl if you so wish. He is a bit older but far more knowledgeable on form than I."

Kylo Ren adjusted his cloak. "I appreciate the offer. I'll test the girl out first and let you know."

"It was good to spar with you again."

"You mean it was good to beat me."

"That was but a consolation prize."

He donned his helmet as she did hers. Outside of the room, they walked shoulder to shoulder in silence, both standing tall and proud, emulating the personas they had built.

"It's a pity that we're not immune to change," he said softly when they approached her domain.

"An even bigger pity when life is stuck in stasis and nothing grows."

"Perhaps someday we'll be back together in a sleazy mess of a bar, but that someday is not soon."

He melted into the background and she continued her walk, brushing away nostalgia like the dust of an old dream.

* * *

 **A/N:** Things to note from this chapter: The triumvirate in this universe (Ren, Hux, Phasma) have known each other for approximately 13-14 years. They were once good friends, albeit not the nicest of friends. They did dumb teenage things and now they've grown up, feeling both close and distant to one another (e.g. Ren and Hux want to kill each other in a brotherly way). Ren and Phasma still quip, but they feel like they're going through the motions instead of being genuine.

This plays into the duality of nature, yadda yadda yadda, continuing themes to watch for, etc. Let me know if anything feels out of place because references are scant on these people.

The whole chapter was all establishing character moments, more important plot will happen next!


	4. Silver Slivers

4\. Silver Slivers

A bead of sweat fell from his hairline, making its way down his cheeks to his chin. Breathing heavily, he pushed harder, inching his way behind her defenses. His knuckles ached from holding the practice weapon too tightly and his left foot was slipping. She looked equally out of breath, fingers white on the length of the staff with which she was trying to thrust him backwards. Her hair stuck to her face and neck and he could tell it agitated her.

"Can't fend off a tiny girl?" she taunted.

Opportunity. He caught her right ankle in a Force pull and she went down hard against the synthwood. "I can. We're going again. Up."

Rey groaned, clearly exhausted. "We've been at this for hours."

"And you're not improving. Get up."

She stood with an effort, leaning on her staff for support.

He aimed at her hands with his mock sword, causing her to yelp. "No slouching or you'll develop bad posture."

"This is madness."

"Madness is you insisting on using a staff when I said we'd be working on _slashing_ drills."

"I don't want to fight with a blade."

"You are a Force user and so help me gods you are getting a lightsaber."

She perked. "When?"

"When you're ready, which you will _never_ be if you don't _practice_. Get the sword or I'm starting without you."

This was _insanity_. They had been going through this regiment for a week. He'd wake her up, give her a task, come back, usher her to Snoke, do something on his own, and then bring her back to spar. All the while lacking the comfort of his bed at night holed up in the guest suite. Thankfully that would change tonight with all the security checks updated. He was puzzled that she had not made an effort to escape since the first day. Chasing her through the corridors was minor and he'd done it once or twice, but she wasn't tearing at the machinery and open circuits to call for help or disappear into the bowels of the ship. She had been…well behaved. He doubted he had been placating her with his behavior, but she was noticeably less hostile. Though he wouldn't admit it to himself, he might miss the ferocity and heat that flashed in her eyes when she felt caged.

Ren waited as Rey went through the training sabers, searching for one that felt balanced in her hands. He took a moment to assess his bruises. She had gotten a few good hits on him—he was going to have marks on his right thigh for the rest of the week—but hadn't hit hard enough to break. He had cracked one of the bones in her hand two days ago and had to interrupt the session to mend it. The light had flickered in the pit of his stomach and warmth passed from her skin to his in a tingling sensation. It had still left burns, but he was too fascinated by the process to deny her.

She tapped his ribs with the broadside of a wooden sword. "If you're going to chide me about time then you should be ready too."

He smacked her blade away. "Where are your feet? What is your back doing? Arm tense, not locked, Rey." Moving into her space, he began to manually correct her stance, pushing her shoulders so she stood sideways with her head pointed over her left side. "Legs forward and _slightly_ bent, not bowed out like a frog. I taught you better than this."

"Do you take sadistic pleasure in repositioning me like a doll?"

"I take pride in knowing my pupil is performing well, only shame is my pupil is pigheaded and has a sharp mouth."

"Bet you'd like to dull it yourself."

"Gladly, with a droid buffer."

When he was satisfied, he moved back to his position. "Follow me," he said, drawing his left arm behind his back.

Left-handed, she had an inverse stance, the wooden blade steady in her grip.

He started with a lunge, and she blocked cautiously. "Don't be timid, your opponents won't show mercy and I _know_ you've a temper. Use it. Again."

She grit her teeth and opened with a thrust, forcing him backwards. Her offense was good for the first few slashes, but she fell back to her staff motions, movements too big and arcs too wide.

"You're chest is a target," he said quickly and hit it with the broadside of his saber. She grimaced, stepping backwards. "Not a huge one, but still open."

Rey sent a wounded feeling over the link followed closely with gnashing teeth. She'd taken the meaning wrong and was fuming. "Is picking on insecurities part of today's lesson too?"

"The _broadness_ of your chest, not your breasts. I don't have those and if I were standing the way you were, my chest would be an even _bigger_ target than yours."

"The quit _glancing_ at it." She pushed at him through their connection, _You're not sneaky_.

"No, I'm not sneaky because my eyes aren't glued to your undersized sandflea bites." He hit her leg as a warning, teeth bared. "Pick up your weapon."

She snapped, coming after him with a series of short, close jabs and controlled slashes. Her footwork was better and she flashed her canines through her whole valse, flitting and twirling, more of a dancer than a swordfighter. She caught him on the wrist and the shoulder, dodging and parrying his forward cuts.

Hitting her in the forearm and shoulder, he gave the signal to disengage her blade, backing up a few steps and dropping his weapon. She, however, continued to charge, frenzied and furious. Two more blocks and he was finished with this. He overpowered her and caught her in a Force stasis that she tried hard to repel. Her grasp on the Force was more powerful now, but she had no success in fighting him off.

"I motioned for you to stop and you kept going."

She wriggled out of the stasis as he eased his grip. "I'm not finished," she hissed, eyes dark.

"Your use of your temper was good, but you lack control. We're done for today."

"I thought you said I was being piss-poor and needed to continue."

"You were awful the last few times, this was better. However, you can't be flying off in a hectic tantrum."

She snorted, still glowering. "What hypocritical advice from the king of fits himself!"

He took a deep breath, restraining his anger. "Acting out rage in combat is _very_ different from slipping up outside. I keep calm, you don't."

Rey rolled her eyes, showing him his lack of control a week ago. Through her vision he seemed crazed, his attacks reckless and unguarded. She kept repeating two incredibly misaimed strikes in her head until he snarled, pushing it away.

"Do you think you could have faired better with a hole in your side?"

She nodded, folding her arms. "Yes."

"Remind me to make you do a practical to prove it." He tossed his sparring saber to the rack, using a push to set it neatly back in place. "We're done with this for the day. Come, I'll escort you back to my quarters."

She walked beside him today, her head at his shoulder height. He rarely forgot how tiny the girl was but seeing her beside him was a wake-up slap to how short she was, or how tall he'd grown.

"What are the plans for this evening?" she asked when they came to the turbolift.

" _I_ am taking a shower."

"All evening?"

He turned his head to her slowly, eyes dead in weary aggravation.

She shrugged, somehow in a better mood. "I asked about _plans_ , plural."

"My plans or yours?"

"Mine, I don't really care about what you're doing."

"And why is that?"

"You irritate me."

He was taken aback. " _I_ irritate _you_. Really. Me. Not the other way around."

"Well, you captured me, took me prisoner, and are holding me against my will, _again_. Not to mention you've subjected me to Snoke three times now, have insulted my breasts on more than one occasion, keep breaking my bones—"

"I did that by accident _once!_ "

"Twice."

"When the _hell_ was the second time?!"

"Two standard days ago."

" _What?_ "

"And you argue _all_ the time."

"I do _not!_ "

"You're doing it right now."

Ren slammed his hand into the side of the turbolift, immensely grateful this bickering wasn't somewhere less private. "Is it a goal of yours," he started slowly and softly, "to vex me all hours of the day?"

"Nope."

He let out a frustrated, strangled noise. "I _was_ going to give you a little more freedom, but I've changed my mind. The more you talk, the less I want to be pleasant to you."

Rey scowled and remained silent for the rest of the trip.

"We're switching rooms tonight." He unlocked the door to his quarters, still bristled. "Your lesson with FN-1013 is being pushed back to tomorrow due it being late. I want to you keep working through the data tapes I gave you on technique and you should try to meditate for at least a half hour. I will come back to fetch you at 2200 hours."

"Okay, mom."

He wheeled around and hissed. "Cut it with the kriffing mom thing or I _will_ throw you out the air lock."

She raised an eyebrow at him with a taunting glint in her eyes before disappearing into his door. He whipped around and stormed down the hall, ripping red angry scars into every poor defenseless data terminal in sight.

* * *

Rey smiled at the roar of fury that sounded as soon as the door closed. He was stuck between two blades; couldn't deal with her, couldn't risk her getting away. The longer she had to stay on this Force-forsaken ship, the more she was going to drive him loony. She narrowed down his feelings for her to three possibilities: he hated her and _would_ toss her out the air lock if he could, he thought she was an obnoxious jackass, or he thought she was _slightly okay_ when she wasn't being a pest. Rey decided the most probable was a combination of options two and three. _She_ thought he was a beast. He might be a little slightly okay, but was mostly a beast. Did she hate him? She was utterly repulsed at first, but now he was…okay. Slightly. If she tilted her head and squinted hard.

She stepped into the fresher and peeled her sticky clothes off her skin. They were tight fitting and several different shades of brown, cut to allow better movement in training. The style made her look lithe and pointed out very clearly that she had no "womanly figure" to speak of. Not that it mattered; no one here was going to be staring at her body anyway. Except her, in the mirror, disappointed with her small breasts. They weren't _that_ tiny…were they? …No, they were insect bites. Paltry at best.

Now feeling utterly glum about her looks, Rey climbed into the shower and turned on the water. _This_ was the best thing about being held on the _Finalizer_ —water showers. It was soothing and warm and she could take her sweet, sweet time washing her hair. Sonics were quick and clean, but not luxurious, not like this. She wasn't use to all the fancy soaps and washes that came with the whole 'washing with water' thing, but managed to figure out how the whole deal worked without asking any dumb questions. The selection was stark, which she both did and did not expect. He looked so manicured under the mask she assumed he would do a lot to keep up his appearance, but no. Kylo Ren had exactly three bottles in his shower. Body wash, face soap, and shampoo. They all smelled earthy and deep, bringing her imagination to the heart of an ancient forest. It felt a little strange knowing her scent was similar to his, even if only because of perfumed soap.

Grabbing a towel, she stepped out to dry herself off and shook out her hair. The moisture on the mirror clouded her reflection and she wiped it off at rib level, inspecting the yellowing bruise from her tumble in a dream.

A dream had caused a cracked rib, a dream of white and blood and darkness. She had learned other things in her dreams now, the ones about the star-eyed boy. He used her as a hiding place and cowered behind her legs, always frightened of something ahead. She had no reason to believe these night visits had meaning, but the cracked rib, the bruise…

And that was all the thinking she wanted to do about it. The boy confused her, as did the physical manifestation of her nightmares on her body. Rey opened the fresher door and wandered back to the bedroom.

She was granted one drawer in his bureau for clothing. Toweling her hair first, she pulled the pajama-like pants and shirt she was given on that first night and dressed for bed. It was late now—not _too_ late—and she wasn't going out again this evening, solidified by her calling him 'mom' for the third time. With nothing but data tapes and meditation ahead of her, she decided to snoop through his flimsies, curious to know if he had any about dreams.

* * *

Two shot glasses hit the bar in unison, ending the break in the conversation.

"—And High Command can't make a decision about what base we're repurposing, which one we'll make the new headquarters, et cetera. The whole thing is a PR disaster." General Hux sucked in a breath and winced. "What the hell did you order this round?"

"Tihaar, your favorite." Kylo Ren signaled for the bartender.

"Kriffing hell, not the Gods-forsaken _Mandalore Incident_ again. Do you have to bring it up _every_ time?"

"I never bring it up; you do. Since when do you give a damn about PR anyway?"

"I'm a general presiding over half our forces, giving a damn is in the job description."

Every couple of weeks on a Thursday night, Ren and Hux set aside their constant need to one-up each other to drink together in the officer's saloon. Whether out of nostalgia or good-natured intentions, they somehow managed to avoid killing one another for the three to four hours they spent ruining their livers. Not that their livers were in good shape at this point.

Hux put in the next round and turned back to his drinking partner. "Why don't we tell Phasma about this again?"

"Because for about six years, whenever we snuck out to bars, you made it your mission to hold your liquor the best and every damn time she drank you under the table and I had to carry you back. That's why."

Fourth round of shots. Glasses up, down, breathe.

Ren made a pained face. "I think I know why Corellia is known for whisky and Felucia is not. Is there a reason why we never get beer?"

"I hate beer."

"Oh, well, in that case, is there a _good_ reason why we never get beer?"

Hux glowered. "Because we cannot deal with each other sober and beer is not alcoholic enough."

"Point taken."

Round five included a shimmering blue liquid and watery eyes—whatever that was, it could be effectively used to clean out engine valves.

"So there is no decision from High Command whatsoever?" Ren was a little surprised. Hux and his political monkeys vehemently disliked flip-flopping decisions and floundering for a plan. They tended to have at least three backup ideas and two more emergency operations.

"No. They're throwing around some possibilities, but for the most part, nothing has been finalized. It is maddening to be on the bridge now with us liable to turn around at any given moment."

"It must be so rough."

"We have very different jobs, you and I, and I would _love_ to see you try to do mine."

"And I would love to see you try to handle a blaster, not that you will."

"I don't like to dirty my hands." Hux took a handful of nuts from one of the bowls on the bar and inspected them carefully. "There are whisperings, however, that we might be headed to the Condular system."

"We're going to the _core?_ "

" _Keep your voice down,_ " he hissed. "It's Snoke's suggestion."

What the _hell_ was Snoke thinking? "Has no one brought up the glaring issue with this?"

"I have, numerous times. Great big imposing destroyer with all her little frigates running around in the heart of New Republic territory sounds like—"

"A PR disaster?" Ren asked with a smirk.

"Exactly! See? Job description!" Hux tried one of the nuts and shuddered.

"They're for beer."

"I _know_." His manners had him begrudgingly finishing the rest. "There's decent reasoning for heading to Condular, and the second option is even worse, but I do not see a good outcome to this plan."

"Why would we be going?"

"Intelligence. There are two big astrocartography centers in charted space: one smack in the middle of Coruscant, and one on Condular. Pick your poison."

Ren shook his head. "Force alive. We can't afford another big loss in number. And for what?"

"The coordinates for some part of wild space that we don't have in our databanks. The whole thing sounds like a convoluted mess."

"Couldn't we send a small party?"

"Do you, in earnest, think I have yet to make such a suggestion?"

"I can't tell with you. Sometimes you say intelligent things, other times it sounds like you're sputtering bantha fodder."

"Is that the line you use to win all the ladies?"

"Come to think of it, yeah. Surprised it's not working on you."

"Please. You were a terrible wingman."

Ren chuckled. "Do you remember when we both tried to wingman Phasma at that seedy little cantina in Hutt space?"

"And then she didn't speak to either of us for a month afterward? Yes. Vividly. One of the most embarrassing nights of my career."

"I still don't know how she did that with sabacc cards."

"Don't ask, just drink."

* * *

2200 hours came and went with no sign of Kylo Ren. Rey stayed up waiting for another hour before calling it quits and getting some sleep. He either forgot about her or decided not to switch rooms at the last second. Both were fine with her, she got to sleep somewhere comfortable for another night.

For a few hours, anyway.

Thunder sounded in her dreams, loud and booming. It was both close and far away, calling the winds to rise and fall among the jungle trees. The foliage had turned black with the sky, leaves whipping in all directions as a tempest cracked the heavens with her howl. Rey held the hand of the star-eyed child, racing through the undergrowth for shelter. They had been outside on the hunt for something he lost before the sun vanished and the clouds gathered in a dark huddle. Mud was building quickly as the rains pelted in thick drops the size of marbles. Skin aching, she tugged him beside her into an opening in a white sheer cliff face. The storm hissed and screamed outside the entrance of the shelter, gales throwing water and branches into the cave. They bunched together in the back, crouched over sticks and old bones, jagged walls pressing awkwardly against their legs and backs. It was calmer here even with the macabre accents of skulls and blood.

Gathering dry kindling, Rey managed to make a fire, her back to the mouth to protect the flames from the storm. The boy sat across from her, light dancing on his eyes as he stared into the blaze. What she thought was blood on the walls and ceiling turned into paintings with the glow, great beasts pulsing and running as the fire flickered.

"The herds had to stay together," he said quietly, voice small against the backdrop of the rains. "If they wanted to survive predators, they needed to protect each other from harm, especially if they got separated."

"What was after them?"

He looked back to her, wide eyes solemn. "Everything."

Another crack of thunder and Rey found herself half awake in sheets dark like an ocean. If she submerged her head, she would again be in dreams. It was too light a sleep, with her drifting in and out of consciousness every few minutes. The world was cold a moment, then it was too hot. Something shifted by her foot and the blankets tugged on her shoulder.

She opened one eye. If she were more awake, she might have screamed. Tired, stunned, and convinced she _must_ have been dreaming, all Rey managed was a soft _Lord, why me._

"We were supposed to switch rooms."

Kylo Ren was half under the covers on the other side of the bed, bare from his neck to the dark waistband of silken pajamas pants. Slivers of his pale skin caught the imitation starlight that glittered from the ceiling. Bright eyes stared curiously down at her.

Rey wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. Her voice cracked. "You never came to get me."

"…Shit."

A sharp, all too familiar scent hit her nose. "Are you drunk?"

"Quite spectacularly." He smiled, which was odd. "Hux is worse though. He's always worse."

"You were with the stick-in-the-arse gingerpuss?"

After a moment, he nodded. "That's a perfect way to describe him."

She sat up and held the sheets to her chest, self-awareness becoming more prominent as she woke up. "Do you, erm. Do you intend to…what are we going to do about sleeping arrangements?"

"I was just going to go to bed since I didn't know you were here."

"But I am here. So what are we doing?"

"We can build a wall of pillows—"

"No. Not unless you build them down the room and sleep on the floor."

"That's no fun."

Force, it was like dealing with a child. "I'll take the couch. Do you have spare blankets?"

"Somewhere."

"…Right." She took the pillow she'd been using and scooted off the bed by the foot, careful not to drag the sheets with her. It was a good thing she was so tired or she would be yelling her throat raw.

"Rey?"

She stopped at the door and turned. "What?"

"You don't have to be so self…self-conscious. I was trying to rile you into attacking better."

What was he going on about? "Thank you, I think?"

"Also I can hear whenever you're being all gloomy about your—" he made a gesture, "—those things. It's maddening."

She gave him a dumbfounded look. "Right. I'm…I'm going to leave now." After the door closed, she allowed herself a small whine, feeling a violent combination of mortification and uneasiness brewing in her stomach.

A wild hunt for a blanket was called off after rummaging through several closets. Lying cold on one of the lounges, she was unable to get back to sleep. Maddening, _maddening?_ What the kriff was that supposed to mean, it was maddening? Bad way? Good way—

No. There was no good way. Especially if he meant well.

Why, gods, _why_ hadn't he just stuck her in the new rooms when they were finished sparring? Spite? Punishment? The universe's never-ending need to torture her? Payback for earlier?

Whatever the reason, she was no longer going to have a nice sleep.

Cursing herself, she reached out through their link to find him out cold, a dream of light and warmth swirling around his thoughts. That was more unexpected than the smile. No hints of what he meant by maddening. Nothing but a glowing image and a heat that curled around her shoulders. It was…comforting, in a strange way. The warmth trickled down her back and she grew sleepy.

Rolling to face the back of the couch, Rey drifted into a smooth dream. Fingers of heat drifted tenderly through her hair like tiny beams of brilliant starlight.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hux and Ren go straight to bed after drinking and for good reason: they both say very stupid things while intoxicated. Poor Rey, she deserves better than cryptic drunk ramblings.

If anything feels spot on or a little off, let me know!

I want to thank everybody who's reading and commenting. As someone who tends to only read completed fics (nothing like finding something amazing that hasn't been updated in _years_ ), I am incredibly grateful for all you lovelies! Keep on making me smile!


	5. Clipped Wings

5\. Clipped Wings

A feminine smell drifted around Ren as he stirred from sleep, warm arms slipping from their position around his neck. Funny, he didn't remember taking a woman to bed. Stretching out, he found the other side cold and himself alone. What did he do last night?

Turning to the clock, the night came back with a wicked headache, the lights on the ceiling reflecting a dawn too bright for his eyes. He went drinking with Hux, but they had too much. Way, way too much. He came back to sleep and…and nearly went to bed on top of Rey. Because, instead of coming back to get her and switch their rooms, he went down to slam back shots. Fantastic. Not to mention he had almost given in to drunken stupidity, shrugged, and slept beside her instead of waking her up in confusion.

That would have been _mortifying_. What if she had woken up first? How would he have explained himself out of that one? Clumsily. She would have flown off the wall at him. _He_ would have flown off the wall at _himself_.

Water, he needed water and meds. Head reeling, he sat up, adjusting to the achiness of his joints. A drunken sleep was not a good sleep and he felt more exhausted than before. Taking the red robe from the long closet to the right of the bed, Ren stepped into the lounge and sighed inwardly. Rey was curled on one of the sofas in an incredibly uncomfortable-looking position. Flicking his wrist, he called the blanket from his bed and laid it gently on her shivering frame. Ridiculous girl.

He needed a shower and a cup of caf. Shower first. Hot water was a blessing on his skin, washing away the strangeness of the evening. Force, he'd missed his own fresher. She'd encroached on all of his territory and it felt good to be taking it back, bit by bit. This was his again, the dark tiles, the pine scent. Shutting off the water, he stood in the steam a moment before getting out and toweling himself off.

Ren whisked the fog on the mirror away to scrutinize his face. The scar Rey gave him was red and pink, the skin shiny and taut. He wasn't mad about it anymore, not like the seconds after she'd split open his face. It was hideous, not that it changed his looks. Crooked nose, dark eyes, huge ears; he wasn't scoring any points based on attractiveness.

He exited the fresher quietly and slinked to the kitchenette. He hated caf—a dreadful, bitter drink—but it did its job when he needed it direly. He took it drown in cream and sugar and anything else to muffle the taste.

Rey was awake when he returned to the front room. She looked like she'd been hit with a sack of rocks, the rings around her eyes purple and bruised, her overall complexion dull.

"You look like crap," she said and yawned.

"Strange, I was going to tell you the same."

"Is it impossible for you to cover your chest, or is this some masculine display of dominance?"

What was she—oh right, robe. The robe he never had a reason to tie.

He shot her a look. "You're not sneaky, quit staring."

Rey opened her mouth to argue but closed it, leaning back into the sofa with her arms crossed under her breasts. "You're not funny."

"I'm hilarious." Ren placed two cups on the short table between the sofas. He humored her and tied the robe tightly at the waist. _Women_. "The one that doesn't taste like a toothache is for you. There's milk and sugar in the kitchenette."

"You made me caf?"

"I made myself caf. There was extra and I'm trying to be nice."

She raised an eyebrow but took the cup of black brew and left to fix it to her liking.

With her gone he relaxed a little, flopping onto the opposite couch. Head pounding, he sunk into the soft cushions, resting the cup of much-needed caffeine in both hands. It was blessedly warm on his skin and he felt ready to go back to bed.

Rey stalked down and sat across from him, sipping at her drink. "What's the plan for today? We're hours behind already."

"I would like to go back to sleep, but we have exercises to work on at some point."

"Please no more sword work, I'm horribly sore and bruised."

"We should be doing it daily. You're getting better but you have miles to go yet."

"You owe me for trying to sleep in my bed last night."

"It's _my_ bed that I've been _letting_ you sleep in. I would have taken the couch had you asked."

"You woke me up, you owe me."

When did she get so bold?

"Fine, I owe you one favor. Do you really want it to be no sword work?"

"What are my limits on this favor?"

"I don't know, whatever you want within reason."

She bit her lip. She was mirroring his pose, one foot on the edge of the table, slouched down on the cushions, her arms once again crossed to emphasize her small chest. "Name a few things totally out of bounds."

"Letting you go, stopping your sessions with Snoke, and establishing communication with the Resistance."

"So nothing I want. I think I'll wait on it and let you know when I decide."

"Done." He finished his mug and set it down on the table. "We'll spar late in the afternoon."

"I have a question. Last night you said you could sense when I was getting upset about my body and called it maddening. What…did you mean by that?"

"It's maddening to be doing something and then suddenly feel the need to contemplate my tits. I don't _have_ tits."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"Oh." She looked relieved.

He frowned. "What did you think I meant?"

"Nothing."

She wandered off to scavenge for food, leaving him to a curious, annoying thought. What else could that mean? They could feel each other's emotions through the blasted connection; she should be able to tell that her nervous intrusive worrying was tiresome.

Unless she meant…

No. He cringed. No.

It was time to dress and do something else to get this strange series of events out of his head. His room still smelled of her and it was hazy, filling his mind with the image of her in the snow, lips ruddy and eyes burning full with a vengeful hatred. The aroma of the space was sharp, ferocious, and hot, almost as if he could feel her pulsing need for control and high ground.

Pants on first, he stretched the muscles in his back, soreness creeping up his spine. If he were to be honest with himself, he didn't want to spar with weaponry either. Body aching, it would be more energy than it was worth to teach her today. And if he didn't perform well, she wouldn't learn. Or she'd rout him and he'd break something in frustration. Pulling a shirt on, he glanced at the datapad he'd left dangling over the edge of the bureau. It pinged when he picked it up, flicking through the messages to find his day calendar had been rearranged by a particularly annoying ginger.

He made his way to the kitchenette when clothed, boots clicking on the wooden floor. "I'm going to take you to spar with FN-1013 when you're done and get you after. I have a surprise meeting in fifteen minutes so do hurry up."

"Don't trust me to escort myself?" She was seated at the small table, toast in one hand and the pages of a flimsiplast in the other, flipping through in a lazy search.

"Absolutely not." He took the second piece of toast from the abandoned plate on the counter.

"That was mine!"

"Guest tax, mine now."

She huffed but said nothing further.

Their walk to the training rooms was quiet but not uncomfortable. After the original tenseness of the morning she seemed to be in good spirits. He felt fine as well, a little confused, but fine. The more time he spent around her, the more facets of herself she showed, growing more interesting with the days.

"I'll be back in about an hour, maybe longer. Behave yourself."

She rolled her eyes at the mask, more aggressive and taunting whenever he had it on. "I always do." Rey disappeared into the open door to her other combat teacher.

• • •

Sitting in a boardroom was not a highlight of his job. Kylo Ren was a knight and therefore a warrior. Discussing political matters may have been for knights of the Jedi order of old, but he was no Jedi and this was no round table. Arms crossed over his chest, he glared at Hux through his mask, imaging himself shooting bolts between his eyes.

Hux had so 'kindly' suggested that Ren was an option to undertake the mission on Condular. High Command was thrilled. Ren was murderous.

"Supreme Leader Snoke has requested all data the New Republic has on a specific sector of the Unknown Regions," one of the boffins said from the other side of the room, hands folded.

Ren turned to Hux slowly, voice calm and dripping with malice. "You said it was _Wild Space_."

"I get them mixed up."

"You _what?_ "

" _Gentlemen_ ," a member of the Command warned.

Kylo Ren sat back in his chair and let go of the light Force grip he had on Hux's hair. "Continue."

"We have a number of pilots who are capable of this task, as well as officers and intelligence agents knowledgeable about the Astrocartographic Institute's blueprints and security keys." The boffin cleared her throat. "The Supreme Leader would like you to accompany the party."

"Snoke knows I have other commitments."

"General Hux has already spoken to him."

Hux was starting to look green.

"I will speak to him after this meeting. My commitments are imperative."

The boffin nodded. "Understood, Kylo Ren."

"How many men will be partaking in the mission?"

"A maximum of six, minimum of four. We do not want to raise any suspicion," said the member of High Command holding a glass-plate datapad. "We will have a mission briefing after you speak to the Supreme Leader to go over the details."

"Am I needed for the rest of these proceedings?"

The lady boffin pursed her lips. "No. Contact us when you have cleared your duty with Snoke."

He stood and made his way to the door like an animal on a hunt. "I will."

Ren was going to _kill_ Hux. Storming down the corridors to retrieve his apprentice, he lashed out at two cleaning droids and one light fixture. He had training to complete; he didn't have _time_ to be an errand boy. And Rey. What in the hell was he going to do with her when he was gone? Her Force powers were growing, becoming sharper, and leaving her with non-users would mean her escape. Bringing her would also give her an opportunity to disappear. There was no winning.

He threw the door to the training room open, storming in with the fury of hell at his heels. Rey snapped attention at his presence and, in her distraction, was brought to the floor, knee pinned to her ribs.

FN-1013 told her something quietly and she nodded. He offered his hand and she stood, smiling. The trooper nodded once in his direction. "Sir."

"Lieutenant. I apologize for interrupting but I need my charge. She has another appointment this afternoon."

"Understood, sir."

Rey bowed to her teacher and followed her master out the door, acutely aware of his mood. He set off at a clip that had her jogging. "Can you slow down a moment?"

"No, we're pressed for time."

"Kylo, please—"

He wrenched her forward with the Force causing her to stumble, his grip hard on her wrists. She looked up at him wide-eyed before her face went dark.

"Snoke. _Now_."

Ren had to yank her again before she walked, her black mood bubbling clouds around his head. She was angry? Good, so was he. Better that he suffered in company.

When they were outside the door to the Supreme Leader's chambers, she Force pulled on his shoulders, standing her ground. "Tell me what's going on before we see _him_."

"You're in no place to make demands, girl."

" _Tell me!_ "

She was frightened like an injured animal, eyes mad and teeth showing. Going back into the room wasn't something she would do willingly; Snoke's lessons had made her sick, physically and mentally. The dark side poisoned her, Snoke poisoned her, and, she admitted, sometimes he poisoned her. She refused to budge; she didn't want to lose another piece of herself to a creature in a holo.

Her voice wavered. "Please don't leave me alone in there."

"We both have business with Snoke."

She went with a little more willing but was still a nervous wreck, twisting and fighting where she could. He had to buckle her knees to force her to bow, and then she only stayed on the ground out of fear. Her mental stability waned the longer she breathed in the air in the room.

"You come with an inquiry, Kylo Ren?" the Supreme Leader asked as he snapped into existence.

"General Hux has alerted me that I am to be sent on the mission to Condular. These arrangements were made without my consultation and I cannot afford to leave the _Finalizer_ at this time."

"What keeps you here?"

"Your second apprentice, Rey." He motioned to the girl. "I do not trust her enough to be left in the hands of non-sensitives. Her grasp on the mind has sharpened to the point where she can bend the wills of others. Leaving her unsupervised would be a mistake."

Snoke steepled his fingers and tilted down his head. "I agree; it would be foolish to let her alone. You are a necessary component to their success, Knight, and you cannot stay behind either. I feel it is in the best interest of the party for her to accompany."

"Master?"

"She will learn much on reconnaissance. You are dismissed, Kylo Ren. And you, young scavenger, will stay to understand your task. Come back for her in a half hour."

Ren could feel the palpable fear spiking wildly off Rey's small frame. She shot him a look of horror, eyes pleading. _Please, don't leave._

He bowed sharply and exited the room, tuning out the shrill shriek of pain that thrashed his ears at the close of the door.

• • •

The girl returned to his care was not Rey.

Broken down the middle, the girl who stepped from the doors was dark and grueling. Tendrils of black lashed around her, licking her legs, her arms, her neck. Her eyes pierced through him, matte jet deep as a void. She seemed cold but smooth as she walked to him, her mood nothing but a swirl of dark and flint.

Reaching out, he could feel scant light inside her bones, ice freezing what little remained. "High Command is waiting for us."

She nodded once and took his side, silent as a mighty glacier.

This was…freaky. He had been trying to coax the dark side into her slowly, little by little so she hardly noticed the changes in herself. Snoke had done something with more power than he'd thought possible. Ren had heard legends of Force-users being impelled to accept the other side into their bodies and minds. All of the ones he'd read about had broken, their minds fractured and frayed to the point of insanity. She was standing dagger sharp, but not the piece of a shattered mirror.

Four members of High Command were seated around their ovular table, frosted-glass datapads in hands while information scrolled over the tabletop. Also in the room were two generals—Hux and Angus—and two officers Ren did not recognized. He took his place at the focal point nearest the doors between Hux and Angus. Rey sat on the other side of Hux, who shivered noticeably when she got close. He glanced to Ren and cocked an eyebrow. The girl was darker than he, so much so that _Hux_ could tell.

"We are grateful to have your assistance, Kylo Ren," the lady boffin said with a curt nod. She sat opposite him, her regal features wizened but powerful. The only female member of High Command, she was easily the oldest creature aboard the ship. Sharp as razors and secretive as the dead, Ren had yet to figure out her past. It made him behave better in front of the old woman.

"Grateful to serve," he said slowly, adjusting to the tenseness in the room.

"I am curious to know who is the young lady you've brought."

"Rey. She is the Supreme Leader's new apprentice. He has asked her to accompany me."

"Good, good. The more hands, the better." The lady boffin smiled, intrigued. "Miss Rey, we are thankful for your service as well. Having both Force users will make it easier to complete this task without a hitch."

Rey acknowledged her with a tilt of the head, eyes not wavering from their gaze.

The lady boffin gathered attention. "We are collecting data on a system in the Unknown Regions and have received intelligence that the astrocartographers on Condular possess information on its approximate location. The four of you are to collect the data without spoiling our presence to the New Republic.

"Kylo Ren, you will have charge of this assignment. Under you are Major Zavin Halber and Intelligence Officer Jekka Tek. Both have been handpicked to perform their tasks astutely and with minimal error."

"I hope to see them perform to expectations, High Commander."

"Before you are in-depth plans on both the Institute and the layout of the surrounding city. All four of you will be maintaining aliases. Bring nothing that can be used to identify yourself or the Order." The boffin beside the lady pulled up a holo detailing their flight course and schedule. "The trip from the _Finalizer's_ position to the Core will take seven hours. You will have to manually plot the jump into the Mid-Rim to avoid the Deep Core's gravity wells, but be aware of the hyperlanes that traverse from the Core to the Tingel Arm."

This agenda looked tedious. "When are we scheduled to leave?"

"0600 hours tomorrow, report to Hanger 8-H."

"Pardon, sir," the male officer started. "But does that mean we'll be taking a _yacht?_ "

"That is correct," the lady boffin spoke up. "The _Hand of Mercy_ to be exact, though her name has been re-stenciled to something less conspicuous. I trust you will have no issues flying her, Major Halber?"

"None, ma'am."

"Very good. Everything else is in your files. Generals Hux and Angus have both been briefed on the mission and will be able to assist after you have left our airspace. We wish you luck."

Ren walked in silence back to his rooms with his head stuck in the datapad, Rey trailing on his right. He was posing as a _very_ well known researcher who no doubt did not have a large facial scar, making this a more difficult role. One of his crew was to be a minor diplomat, another a pilot, and Rey, his assistant. He had little to no practical knowledge on the field in which he was supposed to be an expert—solar currents and other astral phenomena. He must have flimsies on it somewhere, but the question was _where_ , and _how_ was he going to absorb all that information in time?

"I want to switch our rooms before it gets late so we don't have a repeat of last night," he said calmly as he unlocked his quarters. "Do you need anything from here?"

She nodded and entered, soundlessly climbing the three stairs out of the lounge and into his bedroom. Returning in moments with pajamas and her three other sets of clothes, she stepped past him smoothly and waited for him to open the guest rooms.

He took her inside, lighting the way as he went. His rooms were darker in color and much more regally decorated while the guest quarters were stark, white, and sleek. They reminded him of the curves of a luxury liner more than the jagged angles of rough nature. She seemed indifferent to the space and set her clothes down on the pristinely made bed. No questions, no comments, no words—nothing.

This was getting too weird.

"Rey are you…all right?"

"I am exactly as I should be, Kylo Ren." Her voice was cold and sharp, prickling goosebumps up his arms. The dark side seeped out of her like sand from broken glass, lining the floor and filling the room.

It was thrilling, but terrifying.

"And that is?"

"What you would be if you could blow out your last candle."

Ren reached a hand out and laid it on her arm convinced she was a Force dream.

She was not and she jerked away from him, fury growing in her eyes. "Return for me in the morning, and do not touch me again."

Stunned by her sneering superiority, he left, a little shaken and a little angry. Snoke had crushed her will, and for that he felt a slow boiling rage begin to brew in his stomach. _He_ was supposed to guide her down the steps to the darkness, and _he_ had planned to do it more gently than the way he had been dragged down with anchored weights. Ren remembered this, the blackness of mood, the vacancy of emotions—but his time in this stage had been short and he had not been so… _consumed_ the way she was.

On autopilot, he went to his shelves, scanning for flimsies and data tapes on solar currents.

• • •

Sleep came like a curse, for it brought dreams of the bridge. Across from him was not his father tonight, but Rey. Dressed in her desert clothes, streaks of tears trickled down her sand-whipped face. She looked like she had been crying for hours, days, months even. She was shaking badly, in fear or anger, he couldn't tell, but she was wild and loose and tearful.

"You let him _crush_ me," she said quietly, rubbing her wet face with the back of her hand. "I asked— _begged_ —you to stay, and you didn't. You left me there to be swallowed whole by the darkness."

"I couldn't disobey him—"

"You _could have!_ " Her voice rose to a yell and then grew small. "Don't you understand? You could have." She stepped to him, laying her hands gently on chest. "I can see it inside you, what's missing from me now. You have what's been taken."

He was on the verge of tears himself, guilt rising like bile in his throat. "I didn't take anything away."

"No, you didn't. This has been yours from the start. I had…I wanted to share mine, I think. But I can't find it anymore."

"What _is_ it?"

"This." She brought her hands to his heart. It ached, _burned_ for her to touch him like that. Pain rolled through him like a thousand needles, a thousand stingers. He felt fevered and sick the longer she stood there with her fingers clenched around his heart. This was something he wasn't meant to experience, and he dreaded the sweat building on his temple.

Then, finally, she released him from her touch, fingers pulling away with strands of bright starlight attached to her nails. She spun it into a web, then into a spiral, casting it into the air where it stuck to a new and open sky. The bridge melted away to a field and he stood in the moonlight as a breeze rustled the flowers blooming at his waist.

"That's your light, Kylo Ren." She pointed up to the galaxy spread wide across the heavens, stars and planets alive in the calming blanket of space. "That is who you are, what you come from, and who you will be."

"All of it…"

"Walk the skies, dark Jedi. Catch your light."

* * *

Far across the galaxy somewhere in the Outer Rim, a defected strormtrooper awakened in a haze, bright lights all around his vision. It took a few moments for him to assess who he was, where he was, and what happened in the past…how long had he been out?

He had been fighting that crazy psychopath Kylo Ren after Rey got knocked out, then he got clobbered, then…Finn snapped into the present, now aware of the grinning face hovering above him.

Poe folded his arms, immensely glad he was finally conscious. "Been a while since I last saw your sore eyes."

"Where's Rey?"

Dameron looked away briefly before sitting down beside Finn. "We have a lot of ground to cover, but I've been told to let you know General Leia has a job for you when you're feeling up to it. But first, I'll fill you in on what you've missed. We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow, talk about a mood jerker.

Now there's some actual substantial plot! Things are happening! Hooray!

I feel like the familiarity between Rey and Ren at the beginning of the chapter might be a bit _too_ much, if so any feedback would be appreciated to improve any too unbelievable moments.

The next update will be either this Friday (1/22) or Sunday (1/24). Classes are starting and I won't be able to throw five chapters down in a week anymore, but the pacing will improve big time and there will be a consistent schedule.


	6. A Seed

6\. A Seed

He is left alone in the flower field below the galaxy, starlight twisting and streaking across the vastness of space. Ahead he sees the dawn, her silhouette far in the distance, almost beckoning for him to follow. Legs tense, he bolts forward, fulfilling the role of hunter wolf, the red girl a target for his jaws. Across the valley and down into the trees, he chases the rising sun deep into the forest. He can hear her laughter from behind the trunks, in the brook, rustling with the leaves. She is taunting him.

He stalks now, feet quiet as he pads softly through the undergrowth, eyes red and wild while seeking his prey. His teeth ache with the prospect of catching her, the taste of future blood rough on his parched tongue. He snorts through his black nose, long ears perked and sensitive to her heartbeat. He growls, a sound low and feral rumbling through his ribcage.

Tail swishing, he ascends a broad boulder, his coat fading into the dense woods behind him. Her scent is wild on the wind and it frenzies him, mouth salivating, claws itching. With a quick spring, he lands soundlessly in the dirt and botany. She is closer now; from either her own volition or his tracking, he knows not. His mind can think no further than the taste of her. The light sparks in the distance and he is off at a gallop, the air rushing past him subtle and whispering.

He brushes past the tree behind which she hides to discover now she is the hunter and he the boy in red. She is dark—so dark, so _beautifully_ dark—and she walks with rippling fire at the fringe of her dress, pale skin exposed in a zigzag at her shoulder, her hip, and her thigh. She reaches up to cup his human face before cutting his scar with a sharp talon, retracing her damage. He whimpers as the blood falls from the bridge of his nose to the forest floor. His stomach is coiled in anticipation and he is suffering.

On her toes, she kisses him harshly. It is a mundane action of transfer, like the pouring of wine into a glass. Through her lips he feels the blackness overtake him, running swiftly through his body. It pours out his ears, his eyes, and settles on his tongue. He can still taste her poison after she pulls away, her eyes halos of bright black fire.

On his shoulders rest the leather gloves of a man taller than he, firm and strong. It has been too long since he has been awarded this comfort, and he drinks in the pleasure of knowing before the dawn can break once more.

He wakes in the cocoon of darkness that has been eluding him for a week.

Eyes open, Kylo Ren breathed in the flint and brimstone of the dark Force, heart beating violent violet blood through his veins. He gave into it willingly, letting black cilia touch his face, his hands, and his chest. Satisfied, he was ready.

He called to her before he reached the doors and she came to him dressed in black, her ensemble matching her eyes. Her Force fed into his and he felt _alive_ with the power he was commanding, with the power she was giving him. They walked side-by-side, equals now, him a powerful warlord and her a dark lady no lesser in strength. He had been reluctant about letting her fall so quickly before, but now he could see no downside to the terrible darkness in the iron woman beside him.

With her light snuffed, he was unstoppable.

* * *

General Hux was not a Force-sensitive man. In fact, he may have described himself as Force-blunt, unable to feel even the slightest hints of the mysterious energy across all life. But today he had to reevaluate. An aura of pure void entered the hanger, sucking away other emotions in the room. He sighed and dreaded the confrontation, knowing already things would be sour.

Kylo Ren came into sight without his lightsaber ignited. It was an improvement—not a big one, but still better than it could have been. Surging around him was a great black mass of…well, Hux didn't really know _what_. The Force, he supposed, but that wasn't something with which he had first-hand experience. What he was incredibly well informed on was Ren's temper, and it was so thick he thought he might be able to touch it. Beside him was Ren's little scavenger princess, or whatever she was—that thing he was too interested in grooming. She looked darker too, far darker than yesterday, her long attire black and threatening.

Oh, there came the red blade of doom. Peachy. Just kriffing peachy.

Something burst on the other side of the hanger where the great knight was having his first tantrum of the day. Hux turned to Phasma, annoyance oozing out of his pores. "Did we _forget_ something, Captain?"

"If we did, I would say he is taking it rather well."

"About as well as a starved Reek."

"Be fair; he hasn't eaten anyone yet."

"Don't give him any ideas."

Kylo Ren stalked like a beast across the floor and stopped in front of Hux, his black mask inscrutable, silver lines reflecting Hux's bored face. "Was there a _reason_ I was not told the nature of this planet, _General?_ "

Hux flicked imaginary lint from his shoulder. "We did not find it to be a pressing detail."

He spun on his heel and shredded the nearest inanimate object—a cargo box full of droid parts. Ren turned back when the metal was smoldering, hot and red and angry.

"Have you finished, or shall we keep waiting?"

An underling tensed with Hux's words. He fought the urge to roll his eyes—Kylo Ren was not frightening while pissed. Unpredictable, yes, but not _scary_. The man only ever tore into machinery for gods' sakes.

Ren growled. " _Well?_ "

"Does it _matter_ what sort of underworld exists on a planet you'll be visiting for all of several hours?" Hux folded his arms behind his back, glaring up at Ren. "A vast trading center on a planet is expected in the Core, harmless even."

"Is it still innocuous when it deals heavily in spice?"

"That depends, do you plan on purchasing any? I'll have to have you court martialed for it."

Ren was motionless and a glass something broke, fragments raining down on the other side of the hanger. Several stormtroopers yelped. "If they deal in spice, they'll deal in arms. If they deal in arms, the Resistance will be near."

"Good. Maybe you can double your credits and kill your mother while you're at it."

"Watch your tongue."

"Do you have any further complaints? We're running behind schedule."

Hux could feel Ren's eyes bore into him from behind the tinted eyepieces of the mask. He shot back a look of mild displeasure, knowing it would tick off him even more. Ren held his ground another few seconds then turned, disappearing up the gangway, his pet girl following close behind.

"When he finally turns thirty, we should get him a cake with the number thirteen on it."

"I am not dying over that."

"Do you have any idea how much that whiny brat costs us in damages each quarter?" Hux asked quietly as he watched the rest of the ship's crew load up.

Phasma relaxed her grip on her blaster. "More than my salary, I'd wager."

"It's triple my pay. We need to update the 'days since an incident' sign."

* * *

Rey continued to flex her new senses on board the ship. She had lanced the female officer with a look of thick maleficence, standing threateningly in the cockpit until the woman evacuated the space, freeing the copilot's chair. It hadn't required an ounce of Force suggestion—her aura was corrupt enough to cause unease.

Speaking of this new aura…she felt unfamiliar things across her bond with Kylo Ren. He exuded power in a way he had not since their first interaction, his Force signature looming and monstrous. She envied it and all its pieces, how profound and malignant it was becoming. There was something else, though, another facet she was not able to discern amidst the numerous gleaming black stones that made up his shield in her mind's eye. Oh, yes, he was defending himself from her even now that she had been dipped in ink. He was hiding from her. She cared not _what_ was so precious that he felt the need to conceal it, but that he was even protecting himself. So she took up another spear and aimed at him again, the tip piercing his wall.

He was behind her then, his Force grip tight on her scalp. She winced.

"You either stop or I start plucking your hair out one strand at a time."

"I would not look good bald."

"Then I suggest you refrain from pressing on my patience again." He turned to the officer in the pilot's chair. "Major Halber, please call Officer Tek back. Rey will be unavailable to copilot from this point onward."

She whipped around, throwing swords with her eyes.

"Come."

Stalking away, she followed her master with hellfire burning in her throat. In a small moment, she wished she could cut that pretty pale neck of his and watch his blood spill out and down his coat. For this thought, she was reprimanded with the sensation of blood gurgling up her esophagus, choking and sick. She gagged, holding back the desire to retch.

"Quit it with the crude thoughts, Rey."

"I thought for sure you would be back to addressing me as _girl._ "

"Well, _girl_ , you forget your place."

He refused to speak to her until they arrived at one of the ship's main recreation areas. He barred it off and ushered her to the center, rounding her in step as if she were a prey animal. "You can feel it, can't you?" he asked, his great cloak trailing him like a tail of black feathers.

"I can feel many things. Your excitement, your fear, that ghastly lust."

He tilted his head so slightly. "Lust? That's news to me."

"For _power_. The maw of the beast that rests open and hungry in your soul. I _feel_ its famine as though it were my own."

"You've grown more perceptive, girl." He stopped pacing. His height towered over her and she grew small in his shadow. "What else do you see?"

"The walls you've erected to keep me out." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing herself entirely on his mind. "Jaws. They're full of white teeth, black sludge running down the gums. A wolf calls through the frosted trees. He's starved for blood."

The beast was before her, sitting high on a boulder above her head. His throat and belly were white, contrasting with the jet of his pelt. Sitting down on his haunches, he cast his wine-dark eyes at her, curious. His fangs were long and he had a sliver of the silver-yellow moon cut into his face. "Is that all?"

"He watches closely."

Wolf chuckled and crossed his paws. His gaze was a leer and his hunger crept around her limbs, weighing her down. Heat curled inside her in a place she'd never bothered to pay attention to before. It was both pleasant and not. Needy.

"Is that _all_ I do, Rey?" asked Wolf. He stood and leapt from his perch, landing in the rough, crisp leaves of the dying autumn. Tall was Wolf, taller than she. "Am I not interesting to you anymore?" His mouth was red when he spoke and she was unable to tear her eyes from the teeth easily the size of her fingers.

"I do not think we've met."

"No?" Wolf snorted through his black nose. "Dear, dear, I'll have to start over again."

He wisped into the night's mist, his eyes burning marks into her skin. Rey shivered as his hands now touched her arms, his fingers hot as they ran down to her wrists, twisting around her bones.

Wolf had two faces that blurred together under the trees, his eyes flitting between red and brown, his teeth forged from the shards of stars. His dark fur was inky hair against his grey-light skin, mouth still red as fresh blood. His jaws came crashing down, swallowing her whole.

Rey was brought back to reality panting, cold fear in her blood. Her wrists were bruised with the imprints of fingers and she was laying on the floor, her master nowhere to be seen. The room was dim but not dark and she found her way back to the door with little difficulty.

"Glad you could join us after your beauty sleep," Kylo Ren mocked when she stumbled her way back to the front cabin of the ship. He sat close to Jekka Tek and a black thought hissed loudly in her ear _kill her, kill her_.

…Why? What purpose would that serve?

The voice did not reply.

Ignoring his taunt, Rey sat across from Ren, attention drifting to the holomap displayed in the air over the cabin's small caf table. The schematics of the Astrocartography Institute were etched in white lines, all entrances and exits to the building marked, details and routes sketched out by a rough hand.

"If we enter at the northern point," Tek started, pointing Ren's attention to a section of blueprint, "we will have little trouble getting to the data terminals, but we will have no ability to explain our way out if caught."

"And the south?"

"More time consuming but better cover."

"Our main concern is to not arouse suspicion. The southern access should serve us well."

Listening vaguely to their conversation, Rey let her mind drift across to his before touching their bond, quietly picking into his head. He was bored with the plans—had already gone over them multiple times on his own. Antsy, he wanted to get in and get out as quickly as they physically could. He had no desire to run into his mother's forces. No reason to start a war so far from his fleet.

Sneaking around, she touched his clear stone shield, feeling it vibrate with exuberance, remarking how tight and wound the sides stood. The secret he hid here was strong, important. She made her way to the hole her spear had left, pressing her eye to the crack. Inside was a swirling black chrysalis, another layer of his protection. She heard the shriek before she recognized it as her own.

Rey was on her knees, blood running from her nose. Her head was going to burst if she continued to be so close to him, so close to his pulverizing hold.

" _Stop_."

She could tell he was standing based on his boots, but she was unable to move her neck.

"If you didn't want me to see it, you shouldn't have locked it up."

He excused himself from Tek's company and hauled Rey out of the room with a ferocious Force pull. Ramming her into the corridor wall, he ripped his mask off, eyes savage and lips pulled back in a great bloodthirsty snarl.

"We are an _hour_ away from landing. _Behave_. If you pull any, _any_ of this shit while we are planetside I _will_ castigate you until you wish I'd left you to die in the snow on Starkiller Base. _Am I clear?_ "

She managed a cruel smirk, her gums bloody. "Have I hit a nerve?"

The howl that clawed its way out of his throat was inhuman. The overhead lights snapped and shattered as his tempest of a temper brewed heavy in the air. He slammed his hands on either side of her head, caging her like an animal. Her eyes were drawn to his, ember-red and full with loathing. A vein in his forehead pulsed and he bared his white pointed teeth, nose and brows curled in fury, the red scar she left him the hideous reminder that he was no better than a beast.

He strained until his voice was calm. "You are making me regret taking you under my wing. Push me again and I will not continue to save you from Snoke."

"You let him torture me. As far as I'm concerned, you've already stopped."

He threw his head back in a mad, bestial laugh. "Are you sane, or are you drooling in a white bed, brain nothing more than a vegetable? Without me, you would be _dead_ , Rey."

Without him, she'd be on Jakku.

He dropped his arms, temper beginning to fade after he had exhausted himself. She did not move from the wall, not wanting to upset his fragile state once more. It had been fun until the madness bled from his gaze.

"What kind of a thing is it that you're hiding from me?" she asked softly, rubbing at her bruised wrists. "Just tell me that and I promise it won't catch my attention anymore."

"I owe you nothing."

"I'll tell you a secret in return."

Kylo Ren sighed, raking a gloved hand through his sable hair. "It's a personal thing, no bigger than a seed. Nothing worth concerning yourself with."

"But you guard it from me."

His gave her a black look. "Maybe from you, maybe Snoke, maybe myself. You do not run at the center of my world. Now it is your turn to pay me."

"I can't bring myself to hate you as much as I want to."

He cocked an eyebrow before replacing his helmet. "Next time you promise a secret, make sure it's _actually_ a secret."

* * *

It was a secret. Kylo Ren didn't want her to know, but it was.

He mulled it over as landing procedures carried on around him. He thought for sure she wanted him in the ground, burnt to a crisp, flung into open space—anything to destroy him fully. She'd dug her feet in the first day and kept pulling in every other direction, determined to annoy or anger him. But she didn't hate him, not fully.

And that felt…weird. Like the dead spark of light that clung onto his ribs was kicking at his heart again. Nothing he wanted, little he could do to make it stop. He was a creature well and widely hated, but she was unable to abhor him.

 _Maybe a beast…_

No…not that old wound again.

He made his careful way out of the ship, clothes changed, scar hidden, and thick glasses riding on the bridge of his nose. She came down beside him, her garments white and her hair finally tied back away from her face. Tek and Halber brought up the rear, New Republic insignias on their shoulders. He felt uncomfortable in public without his mask, his face open and exposed to the world around him. No one knew what he looked like, what color his eyes were, his hair—none of it, but he still felt eyes all over his back.

They were all faceless nobodies; there was no reason to be getting stage fright.

Condular's capital city was not excessively large, but it was big enough to get lost in easily. Rey's head continued to swivel at his shoulder as they approached the center where the government was stationed. She had been a scavenger all her life—this must have been her first experience with so many people swarming in one place. He reached out to her to find she was jittery, but not out of fear or nerves. It was exciting, she thought. _So many souls to infect_.

She was growing dark. He felt hollow.

Tek slid up beside him, a datapad full of diplomatic documents tucked under her arm. "Sir, there's a message from the general you should read."

He took the offered pad. Hux's writing was nearly as stifling as his presence. Ren's eyes grew to the size of moons as he continued down the note. He was so furious with that ginger puffball he had trouble containing the urge to strangle the nearest living thing. Mother _fucker_.

 _What is it?_ Rey's voice drifted through his head.

 _The Resistance._

She took a moment to stop throwing waves of hatred at Tek to glance up at him, her face torn in two directions. Her darkness pulled for blood, fingers itching to the blaster holstered to her hip. Though at the same time, she seemed reluctant to even think of touching the weapon.

"With any luck, we don't see them, they don't see us." He quickened his pace, wanting to spend as little time in this wasp nest as possible.

"And if they do?"

"If your cover is blown, shoot to kill."

Rey nodded, her hesitancy melting into the background.

He flashed a series of credentials when they arrived at the gates of the institute. He made some small comments to reflect his wealth of knowledge on solar currents (he understood nothing of what he was saying), and his identity was confirmed. Halber stayed outside when they entered. His job was sentry, his com link feeding directly to Ren's.

Archives in the basement, he strode confidently through the hallways, missing dearly the billowing of his cloak on the backs of his calves. Two flights of stairs, a quick mind trick with a guard, and they were alone, information spread wide through the long, well-lit warehouse-like space. There were aisles upon aisles of things, tall and grey and sad. Dust that had to be several decades old clung to the beams on the ceiling, the tips of the shelves, and the light fixtures. The place was ancient, but had the air of being stiff and bureaucratic.

Tek disappeared into the clutter and Ren followed until he noticed Rey had not joined, standing firmly by the center console.

"What is up with you?" he asked in a hushed voice, returning to her.

"I don't like her. I have a bad feeling about this."

" _High Command_ picked that woman for this job, are you questioning their decision-making?" He wouldn't blame her—he often did.

"No. I'm just questioning _her_. Beyond High Command."

"If you know what we're looking for, you're free to search for it yourself."

Her face went blank and she let a breath out through her mouth. She moved mechanically from the console and away from the section in which Tek had disappeared.

"Where are you going?"

"In the right direction," she said softly, pushing through volumes of stacked data tapes. "To Giaca."

"Pardon?"

"That's the world Snoke wants. Giaca."

"How do you—"

"The same way you know he's upset that you're teaching me—he talks to you." She shifted a tall tower of storage crates and ducked into the housing of a large shelf. "I heard him tell of this place through the Force before we left."

"And that's why you dislike Tek? She's going the wrong way?"

Rey laughed, the sound light and airy. "Oh, no, it's far pettier than that."

Confused, Ren tried to push into their bond, unsure of what she meant. He was met with animated chains and thorns growing ten feet high. Whatever her preposterous reasons, she could keep them to herself.

Her hand extended to him from the shadows of her dusty expedition. A data tape containing the exact coordinates of a planet called Giaca deep within the Unknown Regions. She'd found it entirely with the Force. He was impressed to say the least.

She reappeared, a twisted look settling on her brow. "Halber is going to call you."

"Why?"

She turned to him, eyes growing ever blacker. "Because they're here."

He reached out—a Force sensitive was somewhere close by, making their way past the institute. Another life force was with the Sensitive, and there seemed to be more who were blunted to the Force's singing in small but orderly groups around them. He could go unrecognized by a fair number of those outside—most, he would argue—but she…they knew her face. They knew she was one of them, though she made no move to run to their aid.

He needed to hide her.

"If we can reach the roof, we can make it away without alerting them," she said softly, taking her place at his side.

"Are you ready to run with me?"

She nodded, soul filled to the brim with the Dark Force.

"All right." He placed a hand on her shoulder to guide her, a peculiar sensation clinging like a bur to his skin. Adrenaline, he supposed, though that was already flaring in his chest. "Stay close."

* * *

 **A/N:** And the Grinch's heart grew three sizes somewhere far in the future. Our Grinch is too pissy to be paying attention to the size of his incredibly tiny heart.

I'd like to give a warm thank you to Concha G, Elsie Kay, and ByAGhost for their critiques and thoughts on the last chapter and the characterization of our favorite moody prince in sour armor. Of course I'm grateful to everyone who is reviewing, these three are mentioned because I've incorporated bits from their suggestions.

Comments and opinions on Ren's actions here would also be helpful to see if he's going in the right or the wrong direction. I'd also like to know any questions/comments on how the symbolism is being picked up, not sure if I'm being overly blunt or too subtle since I know exactly what I want to convey and you, my readers, do not. Like, I feel like I'm smashing you all in the head with a great big boulder with the word "HINTS" painted on the side, but that's just me.


	7. Rooted Denial

7\. Rooted Denial

Navigating through the halls in a hurry was more difficult than he originally anticipated. They found Tek at the center console confused but on high alert. She had also gotten Halber's message and was prepping a blaster holstered to her ribs. Rey seethed at his shoulder, but he could sense no betrayal in Tek's aura. She was equally upset with the situation if not more so, furious with both the brewing conflict and with Hux's disregard of impending danger. That sparked another wave of loathing in Ren's gut and he drilled his nails into his palms, wincing at his inadequate effort to control his temper.

"We need to make it to the roof," Tek muttered as they progressed up and out of the basement. "No one's noticed Major Halber but they'll know the girl. We might have managed better without taking her."

Ren shot Tek a look, patience beyond tested. " _She_ is the one who found what we're looking for. I don't want to hear another word on the matter."

Stopping at the ground floor, he reached out to see the state of possible danger around the building, unsure of numbers or plans or anything that would be of use. He felt like a blind bird attempting to take flight. The Force-sensitive was close and the signature did not match a member of his estranged family. He felt uneasy, but it was nothing compared to the conflict erupting on Rey's face. She seemed about ready to bolt away in the opposite direction and disappear into the madness of the city, lost to both sides.

"Tek, take Rey up and head to the ship _immediately_. No detours, nothing, just go."

"What about you, sir?"

"I need to get Halber out safely or he'll be a liability."

They split, Kylo Ren all but running through the front doors, Tek and Rey quickly ascending to the upper heights of the building. All they had to do was not cause a disruption and they had a clear shot at escape. He had the data tape, Tek had Rey—all the precious cargo would be moved independently.

Major Halber was standing under an awning of a shop three blocks from the Institute, the shade making dark his already tanned skin. He took a moment to recognize Ren, eyes flickering from a datapad.

"Forgive me, sir, but it's hard to know you without the mask."

"It serves its purpose well in that regard." Ren fiddled mindlessly with some of the equipment on his belt, antsy and unprepared. Without his lightsaber, he had to rely on combat gloves and a blaster, with neither of which he was familiar. He desperately did not want to engage in a fight. "Do you know what's going on?"

"They're here for a purchase and are unaware of our assignment. Three of them walked by clueless of my presence a few minutes ago."

He nodded and began to head for the ship, Halber following. They were too far away for his liking. Stealth was not one of his strong suits and wandering around in the open, though disguised, ramped up his nerves more than he cared to admit.

"One of them is a Force user," he said slowly as they turned a corner deeper into the heart of an open-air market. Powders and produce were on display in stalls and baskets, jewelry and all manner of exotic products littering the sides of the wide street. Vendors were yelling in multiple languages, children and animals darting in and out of legs, laughing and screaming. The commotion was deafening.

"Have they noticed you?"

Glancing around, Ren tried to pinpoint the signature's location. It was fleeting far ahead, twisting through the market and into the alleyways beside the trading hub. "No."

"And the women are elsewhere?"

"On the roofs."

Halber turned his head to the skyline, squinting in the midday sun. Specks to the right of the bazaar scrambled over the break between two tall white buildings. One figure leapt gracefully across, landing gently and aptly. The other fell to her knees before rising and continuing the retreat. They were headed straight towards the Force signature, Rey's own presence thick and black from where Halber and he stood. Detection was inevitable.

"They're going to get caught," Ren muttered, quickening his pace.

"Pardon, sir?"

"They're headed straight towards the Force-user and the girl _leaks_ power. She won't go unnoticed, not unless whomever the Resistance brought is a blunted idiot."

He watched Halber's hand twitch to his blaster. "Do you want me to go on ahead?"

"Straight to the ship, do not engage in conflict."

Ducking onto a cross street, Ren broke into a run, adrenaline sick and heavy in his chest. He threw a warning at Rey, but her mind seemed cold and blank, his plea ricocheting in empty space. He had to make it to her before their cover was blown, before anything could blow up, or go sour, or—

Or before this could happen.

Coming into another alleyway, Kylo Ren locked eyes with a figure from a long-gone past. His deeply buried memories of this man had been positive until Jakku. It had been years since he'd exposed his face, there was no way he'd recognize him now…

Poe Dameron shrugged, smirking darkly, his face devilish as always. The sun glinted brightly off the blaster on his hip. "Just like old times, right Ben?"

He saw red.

* * *

Rey was rushing across hot bricks and rickety shingles, feet unsteady on the shoddy buildings and unsuitable roofs. Tek was somewhere behind her, the Hapan half-breed trying her best to keep up. Just _thinking_ about that woman made Rey unreasonably furious, her mind drifting to lance hatred in her direction. Why had she gotten stuck up here with _her?_ What was Ren doing that prevented _him_ from being the one up here with her instead of Tek? She at least trusted him. This woman? Not so much.

Clearing a wide gap, Rey skidded on her soles, the balls of her feet bruising from the hard impact. They were still several blocks away, unable to descend and continue through the streets. She waited another moment for Tek to catch up before bolting off again, not listening to the calls for her to slow down.

Another roof leaped and Rey stopped to catch her breath, Tek three buildings behind. Looking down at the city, she took note of how crowded and loud it was, different but the same as Niima. She recognized a few tongues being spoken. The words were garbled this high in the air, but the inflections and tones remained. In a strange way, she felt a little homesick. She quickly pushed the feeling aside, not having time for miles of sand and heat.

She was tickled by the Force from somewhere below her perch. The signature was nothing like Ren's rippling mass of toxic void; instead it was light and peaceful, almost blue in color. That was so odd, she hadn't heard of other Force users before, didn't think they existed anymore.

But she knew those dark eyes. They looked up at her, the Light drifting up and around from the road below. Her chest took a blow when her brain decided to comprehend, shoving reality in her face with a harsh slap.

Her body felt nimble again, but a sickness rolled in her stomach, painful and determined to clench around her and never leave. The Light kissed her cheek and threaded itself through her hair, realizing, _realizing._ The Darkness had lied—it couldn't save others, it couldn't save her or her friends or anyone else. Because there he was, breathing, no more than twenty feet from her touch.

Legs shaking, Rey held Finn's stare, joints coiled and ready to fly from the roof and to her friend's side. Back where she belonged, where she was supposed to stay. The Force urged her, pressing at her knees, her back. Her ticket out of this hellish nightmare Kylo Ren had fabricated for her was standing there, and he saw her. He knew her. She knew him—not well, but well enough for her eyes to water and her heart to ache. Finn was _alive_ , and he was _here_ , able to take her home—

An animalistic howl broke through her head with a shattering sound, deep and wounded. Her shoulder was on fire and blood was collecting in her stomach, metallic and heavy. A wave of pain fired sharply across her temples and Rey almost lost her footing, dizzy and sick with foreign ailments. Kylo Ren had been gravely injured.

Without thinking, Rey was off at a breakneck pace, vaulting over rooftops and in the direction of the bubbling mass of fury and agony. Her mind screamed to turn back, forget the beast and let him bleed out, return to Finn and get off this planet and away from the First Order. But her legs didn't change course, didn't slow. He was hurt—he needed her.

She stopped atop the building that touched the alley where the monster was brawling, his bared teeth white and sharp. He froze a blaster bolt in the air and sent it hurtling towards his adversary, a man Rey knew by name but only vaguely by face, never having met in person. Kylo missed—he was too frenzied to be fighting well. She could see the blood from here, how it seeped from his shoulder and down his lame arm, muscles not working properly.

He was a wild animal cooped up in a cage, fear and ferocity weapons in his limited arsenal. She had to _do something_.

 _No, leave him,_ a small voice said. _He deserves more than this_.

But he had protected her, though his motives had been awful. He never let her come to harm and she wasn't going to let him succumb to the starfighter pilot and the approaching Resistance—

 _They were close_.

Rey jumped from the roof, landing hard on the stone street. With a tremendous effort, she threw Kylo's opponent down the alley with a Force push. Grabbing his good arm, she hauled the injured knight forward and fled, brain blank of everything but getting him away.

He was so kriffing _heavy_.

"Your legs work, can't you move any faster?" Rey shouted, pulling him around a corner.

" _You_ try running top speed after getting _shot_ ," he growled.

"Where's Halber?"

"Hopefully to the ship. I see you've ditched Tek."

"She's too slow and you called for me."

Rey felt him tighten. "I couldn't reach you."

Almost to the hanger, she could see the yacht's lights that dotted her sides, engines warming up and takeoff procedures in progress. Jekka Tek reappeared, climbing easily down a gutter and landing ahead of Rey, eyes widening as she approached with their wounded leader.

Kylo shook her off and barked at Halber over his comlink before ascending the gangway, boots tracking blood up the silver metal. He threw off Tek when she tried to assist him. _Good_.

Things calmed down when they were in hyperspace, but only slightly. Kylo was looking worse, his face pale and eyes dulled of their earlier wild hunger. The shoulder injury was more severe than she originally felt—it was two bolt wounds: one at the front of his deltoid and the other under his clavicle, inches from his heart—and she had a hunch he was hiding further damage from her nosy senses.

"We have seven hours before we're back to the _Finalizer_. You can't go that long without letting me do _something_ for you."

He was sitting on the floor in the small crew quarters, head back against the wall. The formerly vicious beast looked positively dreadful. "I can and I will. You don't know the first thing about healing."

"Then get up here and teach me."

He opened his eyes, their color murky and brown. "I sometimes have a weak stomach when I'm hurt and I don't think I can stand again without vomiting. What happened with the Resistance?"

Rey crossed her arms. "We'll talk about it when you're not verging on the edge of unconsciousness."

"Can you help me up then since you're so determined?"

"No chance in Chaos; you weigh more than a krayt dragon."

With a glare, he rose to his feet, steady for all of a half-minute before curling onto the open cot, legs too long to fit comfortably. His brow was soaked in sweat. Pitiful beast.

"Do _not_ pity me, Rey."

"Sorry. How am I doing this?"

He looked pained, aware his fate semi-rested in her inexperienced hands. Rolling onto his back, he lifted his good hand and pointed to his shredded shoulder and chest. "You need to do _exactly_ as I say with no questions asked. If I tell you to do it, you do it. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Get the fabric scissors from the med kit and cut off the sleeve here. No, here, right at the stitching." He winced as she removed the damaged cloth, fibers stuck loosely to his open wounds. His arm was more muscled than she had been expecting, tight coils of sinew pulsing under his fair skin. "Press your hands to either side of the opening but _do not_ touch it or I _will_ kick you."

"You don't have the energy—"

"I fought you after getting drilled in the side with a _bowcaster_." He grit his teeth as her hands made contact. "Meditate on the area, think about the exact tissues you'll be rebuilding. There's no bone damage so this won't be too hard."

Rey closed her eyes and focused, clearing her head of all else.

In her mind she saw his wounds healed, a small white scar on his skin where her inexperience shone through. His irises were a brilliant brown, a perfect shade of milk-sweet caf, and they looked down at her with the affection of a friend, his smile teasing. This was a relationship they did not share and the absurdity broke her concentration.

His eyes were wine-dark and wild when she came back to her senses. His flesh between her hands was sealed, a small slit of skin shiny and taut. He let out a pent-up breath and groaned, eyes rolling back in his head.

Rey pulled her hands away. "Kylo?"

"I forgot how this _felt_." His voice was nothing short of a moan of pleasure and the sound made Rey feel flushed and uncomfortable.

"Excuse me?"

Eyes open, he looked drown in a blissful haze. "You're not dark, are you? The dark doesn't do _this_."

She was lost on what _this_ was.

"Didn't I do this to you twice? It's like a dose of narcotics."

"I'm afraid I don't know what those are."

"They…" His voice trailed off as he got more delirious. "Make you feel good when you're in pain. Drugs, most times in the form of a gas. What happened when I healed you?"

"It stung a little and then I was fine."

His gaze was laden with a clouded lust and his eyes trailed across her slowly, making her shiver. "You're not dark at all."

Well…no. Not since…not since she saw Finn breathing and alive. She had been racked hard at that image, Light flooding her senses and filling her soul. Not fully, however. Blackness clung to her like thick tar on wool. And while she felt goodness again, she wasn't…light. Not really.

"Are you…mad with me for it?"

He shook his head slowly. "No. Intrigued, not mad."

She continued to sit beside him as he curled up again, pleasurably sick with the Light side's healing. Kylo looked more like a gentle creature than a savage monster when he was sleeping. She had never seen him peacefully resting, she realized, having only glimpsed at him when she was first roused on the _Finalizer_. He was frequently there right before she woke up, but he didn't open himself to such vulnerability.

She pushed his fringe from his face when he was drifting out of consciousness to feel for a fever. His hair was much softer than she anticipated, even when it was soaked with sweat.

"There's a seed," he mumbled after she touched him, his eyes still shut and his voice light. "I kept the ground so infertile, so leeched of nutrients that it couldn't grow, couldn't germinate. But it's planted now, planted deep. Its roots ache."

She had no clue what he was talking about. A seed? He would say nothing better than garbled word salad, but she prodded him anyway. "Why do they ache?"

His brow furled in his half-consciousness. "Because I want it so badly to flower, but it shouldn't." Nuzzling into a pillow, he fell deeply into his dream.

Rey waited until she was certain he was completely out before leaving the quarters, making her careful way to the cockpit. Best to let him sleep off his feverishness. Tek and Halber were adjusting flight levels and course, having hastily plotted their return before they warped. Halber seemed calm but Tek was overwhelmed, multitasking a mission report and a destination estimate.

Jekka turned when Rey entered, concern showing across her features. "How is he doing?"

"He'll be fine." She let her hand fall to the back of Tek's chair. "I want to apologize for leaving you earlier."

Tek's brow lined. "You're a strange character, aren't you? Always flipping between placid and hostile. I've never seen anyone defy Kylo Ren before and get away with it."

She reddened, extremely embarrassed. She wasn't sure if she were being chastised or complimented. Tek's face was peculiar and beautiful in her half-Hapan blood. Rey got lost trying to read her eyes, struck by the allure of their color.

"I should have caught up," Tek said, returning to her calculations. "And I should have paid better attention to the layout of the archives. Get some rest, you look exhausted."

Nodding, Rey left the cabin, a hollow feeling sticking to the walls of her stomach. Tek had let a small wisp of jealousy leak from her stoic aura and it made her feel worse about her unfounded hatred. Jekka Tek was a gorgeous creature, intelligent and adept, holding high trust and position in the First Order. She was better than Rey in almost every way—of what could she possibly feel jealous?

Her feet took her back to Kylo who was still passed out on white sheets, his expression soft, almost childish. With a sigh, she took an extra pillow from the linen closet and propped it against the bed. She sat on the floor with her knees to her chest and her arms crossed, deciding to watch over him until he woke. Suffering from the deadly combination of tiredness and boredom, she quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Kylo Ren sat on the steps of a long-burned temple, a location he did not recognize as belonging to his memories. The night was dark but the city below glowed with activity, speeders darting and zooming in the airspace. It had been over a week since the Jedi visited him and he was less than surprised to see the man beside him, his dark brown robes spilling like water down the stone steps.

"This was such a special place to me years ago," the Jedi muttered, eyes drinking in the surroundings. It was his memory from which this was born, peaceful and large with life. He turned slightly to Ren. "Have you figured me out yet?"

He knew no Jedi. "No."

"You have time, but you see only what you want."

"What do you mean?"

The Jedi smiled. "So much has already changed, but you push it away from your sight. You know who I am, but you cannot see that you know."

Ren said nothing, gaze fixed out onto the nightlife.

"When we last spoke, I told you we had a bet about you, about what you'd ultimately choose. With this new development, I think I may have to change my prediction."

… _What_ new development?

"It's not the direction I would go in retrospect, but I know why you've made your choice. I made it too, long ago."

"I don't understand."

"Give it some time, I'm sure you'll have a better idea when you see me next."

"When will that be?"

The Jedi began to fade. "When you figure out who I am."

The dream morphed with his guest's departure, dropping him in a barren field, stars and night reaching down to touch the horizons. He walked to the edges of the land, searching for something he knew in his core. In the center of a mound was a small green thing poking up from rocky soil. He bent to touch its leaves, feeling life and comfort drifting lazily out from all its cells. In its presence, the dull loneliness in his chest began to whither away. The conditions for the plant were poor, but if he watered it enough—cared for it well—it would bloom. He could see the flower in his imagination, the stalk tall and its petals a beautiful mosaic of pink and white. Dew gleamed on its delicate face as it caught a single ray of sun.

Ren was groggy when his senses returned, vision dim and head pounding. The scent of the flower wafted in the air and he found it remained as he woke up fully, its source the earth-brown hair by his nose. Rey looked incredibly uncomfortable curled up like a pittin against the bedframe. A warm light flickered from her, wrapping itself gently around his fingers. Snoke's spell had broken and she was…she wasn't back to normal. A splinter of dark was spiked somewhere inside, but she wasn't affected by it, not now. He let her light soothe him for a few minutes, an unfamiliar peace settling in his bones. The temptation to give in was almost insurmountable, his body practically crying at him to let go, let it swallow him down into its soft hold. But he restrained with a tremendous effort and sat up.

He crouched beside her and took her tiny frame gingerly into his arms, his bad shoulder protesting the movement. She was so _small_. Rey stirred, his nerves tingling as she shifted against his chest. Quickly, carefully, he laid her down on the bed, sending her a powerful Force suggestion to continue her slumber. He waited a breathless moment, watching her face relax before retreating from the room, ignoring the fire climbing steadily up the back of his neck.

* * *

Rey woke from soundless dreams into the smell of cedar and fir. The floor beneath her was soft and it took the wrapping of her fingers into bed sheets to realize she had been moved from her cold position on the ground.

Kylo sat on the floor across the room in his normal clothing, long legs crossed awkwardly over one another, hands busy with a datapad. His lips were quirked in frustration and he seemed to have a pair of spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

"You need glasses?"

He looked up at the sound of her voice, his eyes dark and turbid. "I do not. The coding for this report requires special lenses to read."

Rey stretched and sat on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Level-headed." He went back to his pad.

"Have I been asleep long?"

"A few hours. We are two away from our destination."

"Is there a reason you're on the floor?"

"Not a particular one, no."

He wouldn't glance back at her again, his tone cold and posture rigid. Annoyed at his dismissal, Rey reached out to his side of the link only to find great walls towering stories above her, their bricks black and impregnable. A repulsing force kept her from getting close to the blockade, his defenses more fortified than before.

"I would appreciate it if you would stop trying to pry into my head."

She folded her arms. "But we're linked together. I thought that was the whole point of a Force bond."

"We're connected by accident. If I don't want you snooping around, you will not be snooping around."

"Are you angry with me because the Light came back?"

That got his attention. Kylo tore away from his work to match her gaze. His eyes were hard and cold, limbal rings red around black caf irises. "Why didn't you leave with the traitor?" He hissed the last word, his temper nicking her arms.

"I…" Rey stared at her feet. "You were wounded and I acted, I didn't think."

He snorted. "Sane people don't sacrifice their freedom for a monster."

Hurt and anger punched her square in the chest. Did he not understand her tenacity to save those who needed her? Whether he thought so or not, he called for her, and she did not take her loyalties lightly. "Then you've either driven me insane or you're not a monster."

The black waves of his temper ebbed and settled around him, shrinking when he looked away from her. "Do you regret not fleeing when you could?" he asked, his voice low and solemn.

"I don't know." She was pacified by his sudden somberness and lay back down on the bed, pulling her knees into her chest. "Maybe a little, maybe a lot, maybe not at all."

She daresay she preferred Kylo's amity to his animosity and would rather have him as a bizarre ally than face him as an enemy. His raw power was still staggeringly enormous compared to hers and she would like to avoid going against it in battle.

He nodded, the tide of his irritability settling into a calm, gentle flow.

"When you were all silly on the healing," she started, yawning, "You said something about a seed before drifting to sleep. What was that about?"

Kylo stiffened noticeably but avoided her eyes. "I'm sure it wasn't important." He raised his hand and pulled quickly across her mind, drawing her deeply into a Force-suggested sleep.

A low sigh escaped his lungs when she fell unconscious. Rising to his feet, he left to walk around the ship in an effort to keep his heart from hammering a hole in his ribs. He'd never been sick like this before and, while it made the back of his neck tingle and his stomach flutter pleasantly, he wanted it to disappear whence it came. Whatever it was, it ached worse in her presence than when he was alone. Perhaps it would have been better if she'd left him for her friends, then maybe he wouldn't feel so ill. But the thought of her far away made the feeling worsen, so he descended to a small meditation chamber to clear his mind of this nonsense. A nagging thought settled into his head, chiding him for his idiocy. _It's not nonsense, and you know it._

* * *

En route to D'Qar, Finn couldn't sit still in the copilot's chair. He had been fidgeting since they left Condular with their haul, but it had nothing to do with the mission itself. Poe seemed equally shaken, but he was hiding it well, eyes never leaving the dials and monitors for longer than a minute.

"She was _right there_ ," Finn said quietly.

"I know."

"We could have rescued her."

"I know."

"But then she…"

"Then she ran back to help the man who is no longer Ben, I _know_."

"Why, though?"

"Manipulation, fear, genuine want. I don't know, Finn, I'm not the one with the magic powers."

"They're not _magic_ ," he huffed. Having Force abilities had so far been nothing but a huge disappointment. He hadn't sensed Kylo Ren's signature on the planet, nor Rey's. He couldn't reach Rey, or even let her know he was there. All he did was watch as she bolted away to aid of the great big monster in black. "You don't think she has some kind of affection for him, do you?"

Poe whipped around from the viewport. "Of all the _absurd_ reasons you could come up with, you choose to voice the most _surreal_ of them all." He shook his head and scoffed. " _Affection_ for what Ben's become, Force give me strength. In the very least, now you have a conspiracy theory to give to the General."

General Leia would fly off the wall. "I am _not_ going to suggest that to her."

"She'll want to hear that we saw him, though. That much we should tell."

Finn nodded. "I'll mention it to Master Luke as well."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thus begins his many-chapters-long unrequited heartache that he'll try to convince himself is just a stomach bug. Poor beast. Ren doesn't know what a crush feels like though he admitted to having one on Phasma long ago. Maybe having a crush on Phasma was just fearing her slightly less than usual...

So the summary of developments this chapter are: Finn is a Force user, Poe grew up with Ben, Luke is back, Rey isn't dark but she isn't light, and Kylo Ren is a cryptic jerk who refuses to see what's in front of him if he doesn't like it. I think that's all the important bits.


	8. Getting Sick

8\. Getting Sick

"—And then I'm here, because I sense something, right? And Poe was—"

"I was going in a different direction to corner who we _thought_ was Kylo Ren, but I wound up running into him instead. And Finn found Rey—"

"She was dark as _night_ and I hate to admit it but I was a little too stunned to really _do_ anything before she ran off—"

"—And pushed _me_ down a street before fleeing with that black-cloaked nightmare. Sorry, General, I know he's your son, but he _did_ torture me that one time."

"But I couldn't even feel him! Rey got lighter after she dashed away but he was completely invisible to me—"

"And to everyone else without that mask, walked right by _several_ of us without anyone really recognizing him, and—"

"Boys, _please_." General Leia threw her hands up, the impromptu briefing more disorganized than a box of Han's old junk. The two in front were squabbling with each other about exactly _how_ they'd all missed Ben's party in broad daylight. Three of the officers behind Poe and Finn looked uncomfortable and embarrassed with the mishap. She felt uncomfortable and embarrassed just listening to it. "Why doesn't someone make a _mission report_ so we can discuss this like adults instead of bumbling around each other's sentences like children? And Finn, my brother wants to see you."

"Yes, General," the squad said in quick unison before disappearing in separate directions.

Leia sighed, thoughts running around helplessly. The crew had purchased canon for three of their main ships with ease and managed to pick up a few extra pieces of radar equipment to replace what had been breaking down in the past month. It wasn't a failure, but knowing that they had been unable to rescue one of their own dragged on morale.

Without waiting for a report, she made her way up to one of the conference rooms to call Coruscant's embassy on Condular—they should know about a possible security breech.

• • •

Luke seemed to be unfazed by Finn's jittery nerves. His apprentice kept pacing the room, trying in vain to explain what had gone wrong, what he hadn't done right, and why he was so upset.

"I just…I didn't want to leave her again," he finally managed, hands resting on the back of an empty chair. "I thought I had followed your teaching, but my mind was such a buzz that once I saw her alive, all my concentration fell apart."

"And she saw you too?" Luke hadn't moved from his place across the room, hands folded in the arms of his robe.

"Yeah, that was the weirdest thing. She saw me and bolted. Like she was trying to run from her past—or her future, I don't know."

"And no one sensed Ben."

"No. The second I knew he was there everything was a whirlpool of…evil, I guess, but before that it was like he didn't exist."

"This is an odd development if nothing else. I never taught him how to cloak his signature and that is not something Snoke would spend time on. They use fear as power, and with an aura like Ben's…"

"It was suffocating almost. Like having all the light in the world sucked away. I know was pretty awful with the Force before, but he didn't feel like that when we fought."

His nephew's walls must have been miles high, he realized. Little else could hide him from detection.

"Luke." Leia's image filtered down from a holo-projector in the ceiling. She looked worn and upset, the bearer of bad news. He knew she hated this part of the job. "I've been in contact with Condular. One of their government buildings was the target of the raid, the Astrocartography Institute. Data on a planet called Giaca was taken from their database. Does the name mean anything to you?"

"More than I'd like it to," Luke said as he approached the holo. "It's an old place out in the Unknown Regions, too harsh to sustain sentients for long periods of time. We're going to have trouble."

"What's so great about some green hunk of earth? The only thing they could tell me is that it's all jungle."

"Two things. One, the Force is incredibly potent on Giaca. Remember our run-in with the ysalamiri?"

His sister groaned. "Please don't bring them up, I've spent decades forgetting that whole mess."

"Triple that. Now couple it with an ancient surveillance station that is not only more advanced than any we've seen to date, but hold records of locations and data from the past millennia."

"The more you say, the less I like it."

"Leia, we're going to need help."

"No. I know where you're going with this, but no."

"We have _extremely_ limited options."

"I hate when you're right."

* * *

"So the information has been retrieved, or hasn't it?"

Both Ren and Hux flinched at the inflection in Snoke's tone, neither pleased with the outcome of the mission. The party had been back for a day, the general and the knight for once agreeing to collect their story into one tale before presenting the results to the Supreme Leader. Ren had needed a few hours in the medical bay to repair the damage Rey hadn't been able to mend. Some of his muscles had been put back together wrong and his howls of pure black agony had everyone walking by picking up their pace to a sprint. An injured Kylo Ren was deemed worse than a foul-tempered Kylo Ren.

Hux was under worse pressure to perform and for that Ren took small satisfaction. He hadn't been the one to miscalculate the possibility of a run-in.

"The data has been collected without an issue," Hux said quickly, keeping his gaze trained ahead.

"We went undetected by Condular's government and there was no suspicion as to our identities." Ren was equally rigid in stance.

"Yet you both seem to want to say more."

Ren bit the inside of his cheek. "We were discovered by the Resistance. I was engaged by their best pilot in a blaster duel."

"Our ship went untracked by their intelligence and we have made hourly checks to be sure."

Snoke folded his hands. "Do they know what we have taken?"

Hux took a shaky breath. "We are unsure, Supreme Leader."

"Make preparations for the possibility, General. It will be some time before Kylo Ren is ready to make the trip to Giaca."

Ren's head snapped up from his straight stare. "Master?"

"It will be a great challenge for you, an appropriate trial for your training." Snoke nodded once to Hux. "You are dismissed, General."

With a bow, Hux hurried from the room.

Snoke turned his attention back to Ren. "The scavenger feels different. I sensed her change."

"She came face to face with an old ally she thought dead. The interaction has weakened her."

"But she is still here, correct?"

"Yes." Rey was locked up in her rooms with the instruction to meditate on defending herself until he returned. Though in her weakened state she was relatively useless at the task and he was diverting his energy to shield her. If Snoke knew just how much work had been undone in that split second, he would break open her mind again, this time with a less-gentle hand. Ren would do anything in his power to prevent that.

"Your defenses are high, as though you have built them to the sun, Icarus."

He grimaced at the comparison to the old Umbaran folktale. His wings were not fastened with wax. Guilt rose like bile in his throat. There was no way in Chaos he would reveal the truth of his walls. The illness he felt on the return had not eased, made worse when his vitals were declared normal. His stomach churned in her presence and the mention of her name made it leap. There was no reason to tell Snoke the girl was making him sick.

"She attempted to pry into my mind more than once. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of success." Well, that wasn't the wrong answer, but it wasn't too right either.

"And you have not lowered them still?"

"You underestimate how nosy she is."

"I would like to see her again," Snoke said slowly, leaning back on his chair. "Bring her to me tomorrow after we meet."

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

Ren left the chambers with his nerves still frayed, unsure of how he managed to get away without a sterner lecture. He wasn't supposed to be hiding anything from Snoke—was supposed to trust him fully and had for many years—but he was now becoming furtive and paranoid, locking up his thoughts and memories.

Sneaking into the white-walled guest suite, he found Rey seated on the floor of the front room, head on her knees and flimsies scattered all around her in a circle. It looked like a short-radius bomb had exploded and she was at the epicenter. She had yet to recover from the mission and he could feel waves of pain and exhaustion drifting around her. Healing him had sapped her energy, burning her down to the quick. He felt a little awful that neither had realized how much she'd been affected until after docking in the _Finalizer_.

Ren crouched beside her and removed his mask. "How are you feeling?"

She looked up with glazed eyes, red-rimmed with large dark stains stretching down her cheeks. "If I were to die, right here on this cold as shit floor, I would be happier than I have ever been in my life."

Force, she looked pitiful and small. Poor girl. "Kriffing hell, Rey, why haven't you gone to _bed_?"

"If I move, my head is gonna fall off."

"I'm getting an em-dee."

" _No_." The sound was supposed to be forceful but it came out as a weak cough. "I'll be fine, I just need…need a few minutes to get up."

She stood slowly but her energy wasn't there and she stumbled. He caught her under the arms, searing fire racing to his chest at the contact. "You're going to get yourself killed."

" _Good_ ," she whined, uncharacteristically defeated. "Isn't—isn't that the goal anyway?"

"No, girl, your death is not the goal." He steadied her carefully, hands hovering on her shoulders. "I don't know what your aversion to medical droids is, but you're not going to get better by being a stubborn jackass."

"I'm not sick."

"You're a wreck."

She turned her gaze from him with difficulty, staring down at the floor. "I can take care of myself."

"No you _really_ cannot. Can you walk?"

She shook her head and winced.

He sighed. "Why did I have to get the useless apprentice?" Cautiously, gently, he picked her up, carrying her to bed.

"I could have stayed on the floor." Her voice was meek and he could feel it reverberate in his ribs, dancing around the space near his heart. "No one looked out for me for years."

"I'm looking out for you now and you're not sleeping on a cold uncomfortable floor when you're sick."

He pulled the sheets back with a flick of the Force and laid her down lightly. Stripping a glove, he pressed the back of his bare hand to her forehead, already knowing she had a fever. "I can get you something to bring your temperature down. There should be pills in the medicine cabinet."

"I'm okay, really." She reached for the duvet and he brought it up around her shoulders, watching her shiver miserably.

"Rey, please let me help."

She frowned at him but her expression lacked irritation. "Why are you being so nice?"

"Because you're sick and you've done the same for me." _You sacrificed your freedom for me._ She had…had stuck her neck out for him. No one did that for _him_. The gesture had been caring and he…felt like he should return her kindness. It was only fair.

She made a feeble noise and ducked further under the blankets. "It's strange, Kylo. You're supposed to be mean."

Annoyed with her pigheadedness, he turned on his heel, intending to calm the creature rearing in his chest with a moment of air.

"Wait." She sat up and immediately regretted it, reeling unpleasantly. "Can you stay with me? I don't…I don't want to be alone."

"You want me mean, but you also want me nice. Make up your mind, girl."

"Stay, please."

"Then I'm going to get some work to do, all right? I'll be back in less than ten minutes."

She seemed upset but nodded, slithering into the down covers.

In his own rooms, Ren allowed himself to slide down the wall to the floor, knees weak and head alive with buzzing. His sickness was inching back up his spine, making his heartbeat quicken and his senses fuzzy. He wanted to get checked out again, have more tests run, figure out _something_ that explained the cause of his tachycardia and nausea. Not knowing was killing him, because not knowing meant not fixing it, and not fixing it meant it was going to get _worse_. He hated every inch of his own weaknesses and had managed to lock them all up tightly, but this one kept escaping.

Pulling himself to his feet, he went first into the fresher to gather medicines for his stubborn girl. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and stopped. His face was flushed but only slightly, redness clinging to his cheeks, pupils large and black inside the small ring of his muddy red irises. Pupil dilation, ruddy features, dizziness, dry mouth…dry mouth? Did he have a fever? This could be some strain of flu…Nope, no fever. Maybe he was catching what she had.

But the color was fading from his face and his heart rate was evening out. He wasn't so fuzzy in the head anymore. She looked sallow, sick, and out of it. He looked animated, healthy, and a little dark in the eyes. This was such a strange illness.

He returned to her with a stack of datapads and report files, grimly resenting the fact that he couldn't keep hiding from his growing pile of busywork. She sat up a little when he mulled around for a chair, not having realized her bedroom was free of a desk.

"Do you want me to scoot over?"

He frowned and raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine on the floor."

"Can you get me soup?"

"Couldn't you have asked before I left to get work?"

"I wasn't thinking about it then."

Her sickness was going to be a great source of his irritation. "Why don't you sleep first?"

"I can't sleep with this bad of a headache."

"Try harder."

"Ky _lo_."

Her voice was so strained, so weak that it pulled on whatever strings were left in his hollow-out heart. He sighed deeply and begrudgingly accepted his fate as her nurse. "What kind of soup?"

* * *

Rey tried to keep her eyes open to watch him as he worked. He had glasses on his face again and he kept chewing his stylus in thought, brow furrowed and lips serious. He did a funny thing with his nose when he was frustrated—which was quite often today—and she thought it made him look a little silly. With his mask off his face was an easy read, his emotions and musings clear in the lines on his forehead and around his eyes. Maybe he wasn't a monster after all.

He did monstrous things that she couldn't excuse, but he seemed…human. Normal almost, with a whole array of little quirks and mannerisms that made him more tangible. She liked this side of him—the side he let slip when he thought no one was paying him close attention.

Great Force, she couldn't start fraternizing with the enemy!

…But was he the enemy?

He kept protecting her from unsavory situations, and she knew he'd done something today to ward off Snoke (she had felt tendrils at the edges of her mind for a split moment before they disappeared). She abandoned Finn to save him. He was taking care of her now, complying with her request to remain with her without putting up a fight. He had brought her soup—had taken him damn near an hour, but even with her clogged nose and dulled sense of taste, she could tell it had been made from scratch. He was cradling a mug of it on his knee, his mind absent enough that he had tried to write with it more than once already.

She drifted to his side of their bond, nosing about to find his walls were still tall and strong, but they were less imposing and menacing. He was calm at the moment, bored but content with his work. Something to preoccupy his mind from straying thoughts—they were warm but she couldn't tell what they were of, thick curls of smoke and heat that floating up and around his fortifications. One tickled her cheek and she felt undeniable happiness trickle across her skin. Not even he could be grumpy all hours of the day.

She smiled in her cocoon, the feeling infectious.

"What's got you grinning so?"

She returned her gaze to him, finding a small twitch of a smirk on his face. There was, she was slowly realizing, far more to him than his black clothes and insufferable mask. "Nothing."

Kylo went back to his work, sipping at his lukewarm soup. "Get some rest, Rey." His voice was smooth and low, like an aged brandy in a crystal snifter. Elegant, refined—matching in timbre the sophistication of his jaw and long pale neck.

Her fever was very interested in his jawline and it prodded her to make him speak again. "What are you going to do when you get tired?"

"Keep working since I won't be finished with this anytime soon."

"I mean when you go to bed?"

He looked up and pushed the bridge of his glasses further up his nose. "Go back to my quarters and go to sleep I suppose."

"You won't stay?"

"I don't see another bed, do you?" He rolled his eyes when she pouted. "If you will die otherwise, I can sleep on the sofa for the night. I would prefer my own bed, however."

"If you wouldn't mind…"

"I mind, but I can put up with minding."

She yawned. "Thank you." They could have been friends in another life. Maybe they still had that chance.

Rey slept without resting, her body too exhausted to get anything proper from shutting down. She didn't toss around much, too hot under the blankets but the world outside too cold to push them down. She woke up a little when something rustled in the room and footsteps came lightly to her side. His hand pressed softly to her forehead and she feigned sleep, knowing he was only checking for her fever. Satisfied, his hand drew away slowly, fingers lingering a second too long on her skin.

He set a glass of water down on the nightstand beside her and left, dimming the lights as he went. The moment melted seamlessly into her dreams, almost certain to vanish from memory in the morning.

* * *

Kylo Ren stood on a white stone bridge overlooking a vast sea, salted air blowing back his dark hair. He knew this was a dream, but he wasn't sure if it was his originally. Han Solo stood beside him, father and son both leaning on the wide flat railing, eyes down at the point where the river met the ocean. Han passed him a thin cream-filled pastry—a favorite sweet of his childhood—and he accepted it wordlessly. He was shorter than his father, hair cut to his ears, eyes their older, green-flecked caramel color. His body felt awkwardly proportioned—he could be no older than fourteen.

"Is there a reason you're here?" he asked. Was that—was that _his_ voice? Had he really sounded like that?

"I can't spend time with my son?" Han was younger too, an age Ren was born too late to know. "It isn't my favorite pastime, but this conversation needs to happen. Should have happened already, if…"

"If you were a better father?"

"You know kid, you didn't make it any easier." He sighed and bit back harsher words. "I'd say wait until you've got children and get back to me about parenting, but I don't like the idea of you raising a kid, Ben."

"I am far less than open to the idea; you have nothing to worry about."

"With the way you're going, I have _everything_ to worry about."

Ren turned to his old man and frowned. "I don't want kids, Dad." He frowned harder. He hadn't called Solo 'dad' since he _was_ fourteen.

"Neither did I, but here you are."

He took a bite of the treat, the nostalgic taste hitting him in the chest. He missed these things. "Yeah, and how did that happen? Forgot to lock the door one night and found me the next morning in eating everything in the cookie cabinet?"

"Met a girl, fought a war, gave up my freedom, and tried to settle down. She wanted brats of her own, I didn't—she's the wife so she got her way. That, and she has a hell of a mean yell."

"You never got the family part down." The truth of that sentence hurt in his bones. "Mom was so busy and you were never around."

"We both screwed up with you. And I know it's too late now, but I am sorry, Ben. Leia and I had no clue what we were doing and before we realized what was happening, you were gone." Han stared down at his hands, quiet for a few minutes. "I wish we could take it all back and try over again. We did the best with what we had, but what we had wasn't nearly good enough."

"I was a hard child to raise." He knew that was true, even outside of the context of his circumstances. Mischievous from day one, he had always been sticking his nose in places it didn't belong. Getting hurt, making trouble, being generally wild and rowdy—he had been the child equivalent of a hard-to-train pet: clever, stubborn, and bad for first-time owners.

"You were winning no prizes for behavior, that's for sure. You got my looks and Leia's temper."

"I got a _fraction_ of Mom's temper." Of all the beings he'd met in his life, none were scarier than his mother when she was in a rage. Phasma's rare but terrible outbursts were tiny electric lights next to Leia's star-sized infernos. He grimaced, realizing he would no doubt be subject to at least one more—if she didn't strangle him first.

"Could have fooled me."

"I still have the scar from when I accidentally broke one of her statues from Alderaan. Vaulted the fence into the nexu pen because I figured getting torn alive by Tab or Keelie was a less painful death than getting caught. Mom is _nuts_. And you _still_ married her."

"Love is weird, Ben."

"I am your _child_. I lived with the two of you for _years_. You think I don't know that by now?"

His father cocked an eyebrow and he saw himself in the expression. "You keep acting like you don't."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Han looked uncomfortable. "Padmé's got a bet—"

"Padmé?"

"Can you shut your trap for two minutes? Yeah, Padmé is running a bet and we're not allowed to tell you certain things so we can't skew the odds."

"You're in on—of course you're in on that. So you know the Jedi who keeps visiting me?"

"Bet, rules, can't tell you about that."

"Can you tell me how many more dead people are going to come talk to me? Or is that off the table too?"

"At least four."

That was a fair amount of dream intruders. He could feel his sleep start to lighten; his father would be leaving him soon.

"Dad, I…" Ben looked over at Han, a tumble of emotions squeezing at his throat. He had no clue if he'd see the old man again. "I'm sorry for what I've become, what I've done. I don't know if I'll feel the same when I wake up but I regret what happened, my actions, everything that led up to…I can only beg your forgiveness. I don't expect it, but I…" His voice was strangled and choked. He scrubbed at the tears spilling down his face with his white sleeve. "I wish I had come home with you that night instead of…"

Ben was crying too hard to finish the sentence, sobbing openly into Han's shoulder. Everything inside him was ripping in all different directions, pieces flying everywhere. He was an adult now, but he was still someone's kid. Han's kid. Not the best father, but still _his_ father. Felled by his own blade.

That thought racked through him with more pain than he thought imaginable.

Han's arms were around his son and he held the boy tightly. He had never been good with the comfort aspect of parenting and his grip was awkward, but his heart was in the gesture. "Ben, it's okay."

"No it's _not!_ It is _not_ okay! None of it is!" The yell was muffled, fabric softening the words. Ben lifted his head; eyes rimmed red and face a mess. "I break _everything_. I don't know who I am, I'm a _wreck_ , I can't do anything right, and I don't even know _what_ you think is okay, just that there is no way, in any galaxy, that it _could_ be okay!"

"'It' is the future, Ben. It's not here yet; it can get better. The fact that you're so upset is a good sign."

"Since when is _crying_ a good thing?"

"I cried when you were born."

"See what I mean?!"

Han smiled; glad to know his son hadn't lost his humor. "Don't lose sight of the goal. You're going to be fine."

"I don't know how that's possible with all the sins I've committed."

"I already told you—love is weird." Han put his hands on Ben's shoulders. "You're a Solo. We always come out on top. And I love you, kid, you know that."

"Yeah." He sniffled and tried to wipe all the wetness off his face. "I've always known."

"Then take my forgiveness and go fix what you've broken. I've got a lot of money riding on you."

Ben slapped his father's arm. " _DAD!_ "

Kylo awoke to wet cheeks and puffy eyes. The dream was so vivid he could have considered it a hallucination, or a memory, unsure of where his brain's construction ended and the Force's intervening began. He hadn't spoken so jovially with Han Solo since before his fifteenth birthday, a little less than fourteen years ago. It sat heavily in his chest, knowing another opportunity was now forever lost to dust. His old man hadn't been the best, but…he cursed himself for referring to Solo as _his_ father. That man had belonged to Ben Solo, both perished now. But he was Ben Solo too, hiding somewhere beneath the curtain of darkness and night…wasn't he?

Who was he?

"You're a good man deep down," said the figure in white at the foot of his bed. The voice was feminine but the face didn't exist, a soft light removing all features. "But you're both cowardly and headstrong, suffering through your self-inflicted misery out of stalwart pride, too afraid of failure to turn back."

"How do you know me?"

"How do you know yourself?"

• • •

With a jolt, he fell half off the couch, back slamming into the hard floor. Sucking in a breath, Kylo Ren stood up and untangled himself from the loose sheets clutching and twisting about his legs. He knew without looking at a chrono that it was too kriffing early for this. His neck was so _stiff_ from sleeping uncomfortably on a too-small space. Stupid legs. Stupid height. Stupid genetics.

"Are you all right?"

He almost threw himself over the back of the sofa at the unexpected question. Rey was…he _thought_ she was on the adjacent lounge, huge puffy duvet obscuring everything but her head and her toes, swathed completely in white.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Few minutes. Your screaming woke me up."

Screaming?

"I wasn't—"

"You were asleep but you sounded like you were getting tortured."

He froze, instantly grateful for the dark hiding his look of horror. Phasma was the only soul on this ship who knew he had terrible, audible nightmares…until now. "I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

"Like death still. Wide awake, but like death."

"Go back to sleep, girl." The way he called her girl sounded more like a nickname than an insult now, his tone soft and light. "You need rest more than me."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"You don't need to concern yourself with how I'm doing."

"But I am. So, are you going to be okay?"

He stopped fixing sheets and looked down at her. She had risen, standing before him like a great big fluffy cloud. The ridiculousness of her appearance clashed with the seriousness of her face.

Without thinking, he tucked a wisp of loose hair behind her ear, the motion natural and fluid. "I'm going to be fine as long as you get back to sleep."

She gave a small smile, satisfied with his answer. "G'night, Kylo."

Heat rose to his face. "Good night, Rey."

He lay for many minutes in the dark trying to figure out what had possessed him to touch her so casually. Solo's words wouldn't catch up to him until he descended into another heavy sleep. A brilliantly bright light, a small hand touching his cheek, and a feather-soft kiss that clung to his every cell when lips made of the dawn pressed gently to his scar. He awoke in the early morning to a damp pillow and no recollection of an epiphany that lasted the length of a long breath.

* * *

 **A/N:** Oh dear what is this loony space trash doing _now_? Stick around to see which side of the 'Kylo Ren is either a sex god or a useless virgin' scale I have taken to heart. I mean, you'll be sticking around for a while before that _really_ crops up, but Force knows how weird his dreams will get...

He might become the prodigal son when interacting with Han, but our boy is a long way away from being good.  
Only Han Solo would bet money on his kid.


	9. Like a Wall of Bricks

9\. Like a Wall of Bricks

She was not better come the morning. If anything, she might have been worse. Looking and feeling like a ghost, Rey rose from her bed, dragging half the covers with her on her trip to the fresher. They said sickness was always worse when first waking, but she could see no way for it to possibly get better as the day passed. In fact, she wagered it would go progressively downhill until she had both feet in the grave instead of a couple toes.

The water on her skin was bleeding hot but it was unsuccessful at soothing her aches and pains. There was something choking about the heat, the steam, the small tightness of the white-tiled space. Her head hurt when she stepped out, her nose still stuffed and sinuses pounding. Shuffling back to bed in fresh thick pajamas and the horde of blankets she'd used as protection, she felt a little bit less miserable.

The front room was lonely, she remarked when she stuck her head out the door, debating a bite of food. Sheets were folded neatly on the cushions of one sofa and her mess of flimsies was carefully arranged on the table, but other than that the place looked remarkably sterile. There would be no weakly calling to her missing gatekeeper to fetch something for her out of the pity that remained in his withered heart.

She could do without food for now.

Making a new nest in her double bed, she snuggled down under sheets and pillows and descended into another dreamless sleep. She could have been asleep for hours—days—and being woken up still would have left her exhausted. She opened an eye to glare at the pale face cut across with a line of red. He seemed nervous and she sat up. He didn't _get_ nervous.

"Snoke requests your presence."

She shook her head. "I'm exhausted."

"He isn't one to argue with. You're due there in twenty minutes."

Rey rose reluctantly, knowing little escape plans that would work for this situation. Wriggling out of sparring was one thing, but Snoke? Kylo would fall on his own blade before letting her get out of seeing his master. For the first time, he left the room when she started to pull out clothes for the day. Maybe he was starting to trust her a little more, the same way she was beginning to trust him. It was odd to be in enemy territory working so closely with a nemesis, but…life was getting strange, that at least she understood.

He thrust a plate of toast at her when she emerged in everything but her shoes. Kylo raised an eyebrow when she stared blankly without taking the food.

"Eat. You need energy."

She accepted the plate but continued to stare. "You're doing the nice thing again."

He huffed, lips twitching into a scowl. "You're still sick and while I'm an asshole, I'm not the _biggest_ asshole in the galaxy." He relaxed when she took a bite. "I remember what it was like to have someone caring for me while ill. You don't. This is normal human behavior."

"But I'm your enemy."

"You're my _apprentice_. I can't have you dying on me, Rey."

She nodded, still skeptical of him and his bizarre motives. But hey, he brought her food. Perhaps she should be a little thankful.

Rey tripped on her robes during the walk to the audience chamber. She was wearing as many warm layers as she could manage and the heavy cloth dragged around her legs and pooled at her feet, more than one size too large. Kylo jumped up another level on the twitchiness scale after that, reaching to steady her shoulders. All compassion tended to leave him when the mask went on, but his behavior was entirely out of order now.

He pulled her aside when they came to the chamber doors, ushering her into a small alcove before pulling off his helmet. He seemed paler and more panicked than before. It was unnerving.

"He knows you're not fully entangled with the dark side."

"You _told?_ "

"No, he sensed it when we returned. And frankly I'm unsurprised by that since your aura was a cloud of impenetrable black. But he knows, and you shouldn't try to lie to him, he won't take it well."

"You're not coming in with me?"

He grimaced and shook his head. "I'm not, no. Not allowed. Be careful, Rey."

This time when the helmet went back on, his nerves seemed to harden and his exterior calmed down. Over their bond she could feel nothing but small twitters of unease. Did he _actually_ care about her wellbeing, or was he worried about his master's anger?

Stepping into the audience chamber, she felt barricades as tall as the sun fly up around her head. They were thick, dark looming things, impenetrable and strong. They were shielding _her_ , put up far in front of her mind. His voice drifted across them. _Be safe_.

He really did care and that freaked her out. But maybe…maybe that wasn't so bad.

Snoke's hologram fizzed into existence before her and she felt her blood begin to chill, almost as if it's flowing backwards in her veins. The same rank coolness settled like heavy lead around the chamber's ceiling, sinking down until it made a home in the pit of her stomach. She still hated this feeling, hated this clawing darkness. Most of all, she hated how eagerly her body reached for it.

"You've lost your way, dear girl." Snoke's voice grated against her ears but she found it…comforting? Traitorous mind.

"I saw an old face, I lost a few things." She wasn't lying; not really. Not telling the whole truth, but not painting a new imagining of her return to the light. She won't tell him it's what she wanted or didn't want, because whenever she steps into this chamber, she doesn't know. Rey doesn't know whom she's turning into while wrapped in these frozen walls.

Snoke tilted his head so slightly she would not have caught it had her gaze not been welded onto his scarred visage. He was noticing something now, something that his mouth said of which he was not fond. She had all of three guesses and her addled, addicted mind forgot all of them.

The darkness felt thick as it slid down her throat, filling up her lungs. She seemed unable to shake it from her body, from her mind. From her heart. It curled and bit and hissed and then it had its hooks sunk deep into her flesh all over again. Snoke wasn't breaking her down, not like the last time—not with massive, rolling waves of torture and helplessness—but he was lulling her into a deep, heavy-seated submission.

"We need to amend your status."

"Yes." Yes? _Yes?_ What was she thinking? No! No they did _not_ need to amend her status! She was fine right now!

But oh, the power rolled and she accepted the knocking at her gates.

• • •

Rey stumbled lamely from the audience chamber, eyes not seeing all that was around. Eyes seeing in a red-tinted vision of hell. Her prior sickness receded, but only long enough for her to take a few steps and press her back to the wall, chest on fire in longing for air. Hands were on her shoulders before her senses returned, guiding her away from the cold steel pressing uncomfortably against her back. Later, perhaps, she'd be embarrassed about how long it took her to realize who was beside her, but not now.

He set her down on the sofa in her room before taking off his helmet. His face looked different through her cloudy vision. A face of what could be, not what was. His scar was flame licking up his cheek, his eyes pits of fire and molten metal. The teeth in his mouth were cruel—pointed and ferocious—and his concerned lips were in a snarl.

"Rey."

She was hungry for her name.

Whatever madness leaking from her eyes was making him less and less comfortable. Good. _Good?_ Wait, did she want him uncomfortable? Was this her goal? Why wasn't he thrilled, anyway? Here she was again, darkly ruthless and gravitational like a black hole.

He ducked to her, ducked so his eyes were level with hers. "Has he stolen you away again?"

Her lips curled to lash an insult at his weak compassion, but something about his face broke it to pieces in her throat. "A little."

Kylo swore, more distraught than he should have been. More distraught than a dark knight should be at the turning of his pupil. The black monster inside her noticed something about him was off. It growled a soft warning in her ear—he was not what he seemed. An imposter…? Or something else, something stranger. Who was he, really?

His hands were on her shoulders. He was getting casual with her, so casual. It snapped part of her feral anger away into an abyss. Heat rose up her arms and pooled where his gloves met her body. Her thoughts trembled a moment before catching up to her voice. "Hey."

He let out a deep sigh, taking back his hands as though she were made of fire. "Way to give me a fright, girl." Standing, Kylo raked a hand through his hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I don't think I'll be able to pull away from that so quickly again." It was the truth, she realized as she stared down at her shaking fingers. She was just a little bit darker now, a little worse for wear. It would continue now, she knew. It would continue until the day she was laid to rest. "Did you…do that for me?"

He cocked his head and played dumb. "Do what?"

She looked away, unsure of what it all meant now. "Thank you."

"Get back to work on your meditation."

* * *

Ren left the room with a dizzy head and a red face, disgusted with himself, at himself. Disgusted in general. He was so grateful to have the helmet on when he passed by Phasma on his way down to the hangers. She'd know something was wrong if she saw the state of his face. She always knew. She could read _everything_ going on with him, always could. He couldn't talk to her, not until he had this all straightened the _kriff_ out. The heart palpitations, the flush, the tightness of his chest when he thought he'd lost her again.

Why did he _care_ about that, though? Didn't he _want_ her to be cloaked in the dark force, be his apprentice in a quest to finish Vader's empire? He didn't need her for that, but he…he _wanted_ her for that. Wanted her to stand beside him like a beacon of his will. Strong and domineering in thick leather boots. Dark, beautiful—

What the _fuck_.

He stopped in his race to get down into the ship's bowels. Beautiful? She was just a girl, a mere girl. Young—so young, so _painfully_ young—and naïve. With a spark like a sun in her eyes, a brightness that could swallow the dark and rise up from the furious flames until her wings were no longer made of glass. But she was clear, calm, and…beautiful.

Oh.

He needed to sit down a moment.

Ren turned into a meeting room (thank the Force he was still on the officer's level) and locked the door before sinking down into a chair. Facing the viewports that looked out into the starry expanse, he pulled his mask off and let his face fall into his hands, elbows digging into his knees. That's why he cared.

His reflection in the glass was solemn. Sad. If he removed a glove, he knew he'd feel an inkling of heat still lingering on his cheek. He had gotten so _soft_ over the past month and a half, almost two. If he were more in touch with his emotions, he felt as though a singular sob might grow in his thick, aching lungs. But it didn't. No tears, no elation, nothing but mild self-pity and hatred.

He chuckled humorlessly in the empty room. _So this is how it's going to happen_ , he thought with the taste of iron on his tongue. This is how he would destroy himself. Not out of his fierce need to emulate is grandfather, not Snoke's backhandedly tricky ways, not his own guilt from all the senseless bloodshed, the rage…Out of the inevitable love of a girl. A love he did not feel yet but knew he could not escape. Monsters did not deserve what they craved, and he was the cruelest, most smoke and fire spewing of them all. If he were lucky, his meager heart would glaze over and turn to stone with her disgusted rejection and he could go back to sleeping in the comfortless darkness and tar of the night.

Undeserving.

Revolting.

How _dare_ he even _think_ of inflicting such a wickedness as himself upon that girl? How _dare_ he yearn for something so kind, so innocent? How dare he take that away from someone else? Someone who could love her better? Someone who wasn't a despicable creature that fed on dark tyranny and hopelessness?

How dare he be human?

The blushes, the touching, oh yes he certainly wanted her. Her body, her mind, her light—he coveted them all like a sad lonely beast. For he was nothing more than a sad lonely beast from a children's fable, come to kidnap the poor maiden until her prince came, though this maiden would save herself, that he knew. He was just the dragon in the tower, hiding from both himself and his ward.

Ren stood and pulled back on the only thing that would hide his miserable desires. It cloaked his unease as he continued his walk, made him seem controlled and tall. Inside, he was beginning to change, like a moth in a chrysalis.

* * *

The star-eyed boy came back to Rey when she slept, passed out on the floor too exhausted to continue her meditation. He looked troubled when he took her hand, leading her to a new part of their strange island. It was a little like the one she'd dreamed up as a kid, but it was also a bit of his, some of the creatures and plants too childish to be real, but too real to be imaginings—fauna and flora he'd seen and remembered through his young eyes. He guided her up to one of the high peaks, where the ocean could be seen from all angles. The day was beautiful and clear, the sea calm and a wonderful aqua green. She cherished the salt spray that licked across her ears.

"I want to give you this," the boy said, his head coming no further than her waist.

"Give me what?"

"Everything you want."

She stared out across the waves, the sky empty of clouds, the day never-ending under the sun. Rey smiled down at him, forever amused with his cryptic words. "I have everything I want already."

"You don't have me."

The sentence was not his, and the star-eyed child looked confused at the sound, glancing up, squinting at nothing with an edge of disdain.

Rey thought she recognized the voice, but the flicker of knowledge passes the second it emerges. She looked down at the boy who was frowning now, the freckles on his nose scrunched into tiny points.

"I can set you free," he said quietly. The island disappeared and she was standing in the grass on a wide field on a jungle planet she'd never seen. She could hear a bustle of voices; see the movement of machinery as it trekked noisily across the horizon. She spotted the fighters, the base's doors, the faces of people she would know. The boy's fingers were tucked anxiously into the hem of his shirt. "I can bring you to them. You can find a home in them."

"I…" It was a tempting thought, even in dreams. But she'd run from it before, not even a week ago. She'd run from the comfort and love of her friend, of a future of satisfying work and a greater cause. "I think I'm okay with where I am."

And like the flicker of vision in the desert heat, the boy was gone. A hand clapped her on the back.

"That's a terrible choice, Rey." The man beside her was a tower cloaked in dark browns and black. He laughed and it was full of sleigh bells. "One I'd make too, but kriffing _horrible_ nonetheless."

She frowned, not recognizing the stranger in her dream. "Excuse me?"

"You should go if you're offered. You can only stay on that blasted ship for so long before going absolutely mad. Snoke's a _beast_ and there's no getting around him. You should leave."

"And who are you to be deciding my future?"

He turned to face her, sporting a great red line running down his right eye. She felt as though she knew him, but they'd never met, not once. "One of many looking out for your safety. Well, _I'm_ looking out for your safety. The rest are all a little too engaged in their game to realize we've got _lives_ we're playing with."

He wasn't explaining a damn thing. She frowned harder.

Laughing again, his eyes reminded her of someone else. Not their color, but their inability to lie; clear, transparent peepholes into his thoughts. He was genuine. Good, if not a little rough around his sides. "I could tell you my name, but you wouldn't know who I am. I could tell you my _old_ moniker and you'd curl away in disgust. We'll start with the first one. Anakin Skywalker."

Skywalker. Luke's last name. His father. "Darth Vader."

"A name I would like to distance myself from but yes. It's important not to forget the past." His smile dipped to sad and he tore the bitterness from his expression. "You've met my insane grandson. How is he?"

She shook her head, picturing Kylo. He was so stressful to be near. So _overbearing_. "Crazy."

"Yeah." Anakin laughed again, more cheerful than she expected. "I don't look forward to having to talk to him. Not anytime soon, at least. You'd think my daughter would have done better at picking a husband who didn't _run off_ every other month and screw up their kid, but hey. I made some terrible choices too."

"Why would you want to speak to Kylo?" Rey couldn't quite wrap her head around this. What would be the point? "He'd probably just grovel at your feet."

"You call him Kylo?" Anakin raised and eyebrow but dropped the sentence that was supposed to follow. "Ben was a good kid. He was. What he is now…Bring him home, will you?"

" _Me?_ "

"Yeah, you, the only other person who's managed to lodge a stick into his thick head. He'll listen to you. Maybe not yet, but he will. Ben doesn't like people. He doesn't trust easily. But he trusts you."

"I feel a little sick."

"Trust me, I do too. On the flip side, if you can get the hell out, then _get the hell out_. This stupid bet they're playing isn't worth your life."

She nodded once, still confused. "Right."

"It'll come together soon. He began to fade, the dream stretching into white. "Everything fits into place."

Rey woke with the imprint of the glass table's edge on her forehead and a flimsy stuck to her cheek, groggy but feeling far healthier than she'd been before. Anakin Skywalker. What a strange character. Nothing like how she pictured the man who'd terrorized the galaxy before her birth. Maybe there was something to say about the dark side warping people beyond recognition. She gave a fleeting thought to how Kylo had been as a boy—did he have Anakin's laugh, Han's smile? Were his eyes…he had his grandfather's eyes, not in color but in kind.

Was the boy of his youth lost in a dark tempest, or was there a glimmer of him left in the her dark-clothed gatekeeper? She wondered if she'd ever know the answer.

* * *

Ren's dreams for the next week were tormented flashes of heat. Skin, darkness, skin again. Lips, darkness, breath, guilt—hatred. He threw up twice in the mornings following; sweat thick on his pale brow. He couldn't handle this. His body couldn't handle this. The light—it clawed, gnawed, and savored his flesh when he slept. His realization about Rey had knocked the wind from his lungs and sent him into a spiraling well of self-loathing and stark hatred. He let the light in for tender seconds in dreams and paid in fluids in the artificial dawns. She needed to be darker if he wanted to survive this sickness. For it was a sickness now, ripping his insides to shreds.

Hux commented that he looked hungover at one point—sneered it, really—and he just nodded, not wanting to tell the truth, preferring to think of this fuck up as a wild bender of which he'd eventually tear from. What was the appeal of the light if it just made him nauseous, exhausted, and achy? He'd make a lot of rotten deals to get this to _stop_.

So he surprised himself, finally, when he returned to her at night. This was a planned event—he'd been preparing for a while—but he found his breath shallow and his fingers cold when he approached her rooms. She was sleeping and for a moment he wanted to call it all off and just admire the planes of her face in the pale lighting. Let her light fill him to the point of tears. He wondered what she ta—

He shook her awake, his touch gruff.

She sprang to life, backing away from him like he was an intruder. She was ready to fight, to defend herself. She had grown so strong.

"I need you to get dressed. We're leaving tonight."

She relaxed a fraction at the sound of his voice, but the snarl still stuck to her lips. He wanted to wash it away. "What? Where?" Panic, it echoed on the walls.

"Ilum. We have to hurry; the _Finalizer_ will only be near her orbit for a few days." That, and they couldn't risk being seen.

"What's on Ilum?"

"Kyber crystals. It's time you had a weapon of your own."

Her smile was huge. "I'm getting a lightsaber?"

"Only if you get out of bed, so let's move."

* * *

 **A/N:** It's done. I'm gonna cry, it's done. I've been floundering through this chapter for a week and a half, my god. I'm sorry it's so much shorter than usual. Also hey, first chapter to break the two word name scheme!

I've had _so many exams_ for the past two weeks (FOUR. FUCKIN' FOUR) and I have _so many more_ (TWO FUCKING MORE) next week. Production will slow (GRADES COME FIRST, HOMIES), but I just really do not want to let this story fade off into the distance. I have such a plan for the climax and it's going to be so sweet, I just need to make it there.

Kylo is grossly self-deprecating and Anakin is a little shit for what he's telling Rey to do. Stop that, Ani, don't mess with how things are supposed to be going.


	10. The Blade

10\. The Blade

Somewhere high above in the realm of the dead, there was a loud, collective groan. Anakin Skywalker, pompous as the day was long, returned with a smug look of sheer satisfaction on his face. His wife rolled her eyes, his actions never ceasing to amaze her.

"One day, I just ask for _one_ _day_ where you don't decide to tinker with everything not going your way."

He leaned down to kiss Padmé, her arms crossed and her lips unresponsive. "The fact that _I'm_ the one advocating against the meddling with these two kids should say something."

"I'm the father of one of those kids and I think we're doing them a favor."

Anakin glared at Solo. He hadn't warmed up to his daughter's husband. No one was good enough for his little princess. Padmé could think otherwise, but he was stone set. "And look at what great parenting you've done to contribute to the conversation."

"You're one to talk."

"I thought they were _dead_ , it's a little different than running out on my son whenever I can't be civil with my wife."

Solo's jaw clenched and Anakin took another moment to be smug.

"And while Han had a nice conversation with Ben, _you_ fiddled around with Rey's knowledge of the situation." Padmé took his arm and guided him to a seat at the table.

"They _both_ know. Her less so, but they _do_. That's not fiddling." A stern look from her granted a sigh. "Hey Kenobi, you want to comment on this?"

Obi-Wan was standing with a few other knights on the other side of the lounge. He was in and out of this game like a serpent, slithering easily away when he couldn't be bothered. "No, Anakin. I'm not aiding you in a domestic quarrel."

"Are we having a domestic quarrel?"

" _No,"_ she huffed. "But I would so like you to _stop_ meddling with the lower world. It's one thing to talk to them, it's another to tell her to jump ship."

"You're just upset that if she leaves, the whole bet's gone sour."

She took a drink of something strong and tall, placing it back by her side. "Don't you want to see all this misery come to an end? Don't you _want_ our grandchild to come back to the light?"

Anakin looked away. Yes, but no. Yes, he did, but no, not like this. He didn't want to see Ben fall a second time, falling the same way he had. If anything were to happen to that girl… "It shouldn't be for something so fickle."

"Would you call what we have fickle?"

"No, I'd call it a stupid decision that was wonderful before it went sour." She looked hurt with his words. "What I mean is…he should come back for more than just one reason. And not for something so liable to change."

"I hope you're wrong."

"As do I."

* * *

The hallways by the hangers were dark, cloaked in shadows and soft blinking lights. What they were doing felt deceitful and flat-out unauthorized, made more evident by the look of worry marring Kylo's features. His brow only stopped furrowing when he was seated in the cockpit of a rather ferocious looking ship. It was sleek and silver and _gorgeous_ , graceful wings arcing backwards to meld seamlessly into the body. It wasn't a fighter, nor was it a shuttle.

"It's a stealth cruiser," he said quietly, answering her unasked question.

"For some reason, I thought you wouldn't be keen on flying."

He snorted, throwing the engines into gear. "I was raised by _Han Solo_ , remember? There was no escaping a childhood of starships.

And he was a _good_ pilot. Reckless as all sin, but _good_ , leading her out of the hanger smoothly, the craft making nearly no noise as it departed. The dive away from the _Finalizer_ was steep and twisting—he was _clearly_ showing off, throwing them into hyperspace as soon as the engines would allow.

"Do you have to prove you're the best at _everything?_ "

"Yes." He rose, stretching his arms over his head. He wasn't wearing his usual dark and dooming attire and seeing him in even just a little less black was strange. "This will be a short trip. Ilum is a ball of ice; you'll want to put on something warmer."

She followed him back to the small crew quarters. There was only one bed, but with the time estimate he'd given, they'd be off planet in the next twelve hours. He tossed her an overly large coat and several extra bottom and top layers before disappearing with his own pile of clothing. It couldn't be _that_ cold, could it?

Oh, it could. Kriff, it could be that cold.

Ilum was a fucking _hell._ She'd known hot, sanded winds for years, but the frost and ice slamming into any exposed inch of skin was _unbearable_. Wrapped in thick hides and leathers, she still felt naked to the elements. Kylo beside her didn't even look _fazed_ by the blizzard brewing around them. He also looked incredibly silly in his huge black fur-lined coat.

Stepping inside the caves was like something out of a dream. First, there was the Light. It permeated the halls here, smoothing over the rough icy edges of the walls and archways. It scooped her up slowly and nudged into her skin, chasing away her negative thoughts. Then, there was Kylo's face. He could feel the tug too; she could see that in his eyes. He brought his hood down and stood a moment, just breathing in steadily as though he might fracture and break from an invisible weight. He caught her staring and she took a shaky breath, chest tight.

"I can't go in with you," he said as he gestured to the wide open doorway with a sheet of ice covering its top. "This is something you have to do by yourself."

"Will it take long?"

"I don't know. I've never been inside before."

There was a lingering sorrow in his voice that she astutely ignored before plunging into the cold darkness ahead.

* * *

He watched her go with his heart hammering up his throat. He had no clue what lay beyond the mouth of the caves, no idea if there were dark desperate creatures waiting for a meal, or if anything sinister had transpired on this planet after the Clone Wars. He didn't know, and for that, he was panicking. Her safety had so quickly climbed to the top rung of his hierarchy of Very Important Things and he loathed himself for it. She wasn't supposed to make him tear his hair out with worry, to make the Light call so _strongly_ to him, to taunt him, to try to seduce him back to where he belonged.

 _No, what the_ fuck _, Ren._ He belonged _here_ , with the Order _._ This was his place. But it so clearly was not hers and for that he felt as though he were being ripped to shreds in indecision. He was going to implode over something so stupid as another human being.

So he sighed, sat himself the hell down, and tried to meditate the panic away, willing the thoughts from his mind until she returned.

* * *

It was even _colder_ in the caves if that were possible. Frost speared into Rey's bones, sucking away her body heat. So many furs, so little warmth. She had on mittens but her fingers were still icicles, unable to bend or move. This was getting infuriating. She didn't even know what she was _looking for_.

Crystals. But _where_? Everything was _ice_. Pure ice. Ice and death and freezing and her nose was going to fall off before she got the hell off this planet. In her frustration, she tripped over a nice-sized rock and stumbled, sliding down a long, gentle slope to the cavern floor twenty feet below. Stunned and now with throbbing back pain from the impact, Rey stood, examining her new surroundings. It was…still dark, still cold, and still entirely made of ice.

Kriffing amazing.

It feels like an eternity has passed by the time she get somewhere that looks a little less the same as everywhere else. The chamber is uninteresting and bleak, but she feels something else inside. Something was calling towards her, bright and brilliant and hot as a sun. A crystal. _Her crystal_. It sparkled so slightly more than the others, nestled into a group to the far west of the chamber. She stood before it a few seconds before reaching out to touch it, to get one goddamn step closer to getting away from the First Order—

The room turns upside down and she's in the desert, the sands hot and the wind fierce, aiming to rake the flesh from her bones. An older man is before her, cloaked in dull browns and tans. He says words to her she's already heard—words he's already said—and now she can place a face to the voice.

"These are the first steps."

She is cast away into the scalding dunes, tumbling out of the burning sand at the feet of a boy. He is young, his hair matching the color of the landscape. His eyes, she knows his eyes. Blue and clear, full of emotions and curiosity. "Even the worst of us were once children."

He beckons for her to rise and she stands, feet connecting with the floor of an ancient building long ago ravaged. _The Jedi Temple_. The boy is older, his face cut with a red line. He is Skywalker, first of his line, last of the Jedi. "The past repeats in the present. The universe is a cyclical thing."

She throws her hands up, unsure of why until a red blade crashes hard against her blue. The face of the man before her is different from the one she now knows. It's savage, unstable, and dangerous, cruel beyond all measure. The way he looked at her then is not how he looks at her now. He recoils his blade, the crimson light searing his features. "Everything can change with time—every fate is malleable. Yours, and mine."

Lightning breaks in the sky above and she looks up at the approaching storm. The clouds are thick and unending. Once again in the jungle, she is holding the hand of the star-eyed child. His eyes—his eyes are Skywalker's eyes in everything but color. He rubs at the nebulae in his hair. "It calls to me. It calls to me every night. I can't stop it—I can't will it away."

"What calls?"

"The Light."

She knows who he is. She's heard his name but it's gone as soon as it's realized. A loud, pleading cry, a shot taken blindly in the darkness. It is on his shoulders the galaxy rests.

Falling to her knees, she finds the metal grates below aching and sharp, cutting up her skin. She looks up into a tortured face, one wrist bound by thick black smoke. His face is odd, for she's seen it halfway. Kylo's face owns half of this man's, the other half the savage Wolf. His eyes are beautiful and wretched, a pitiful miserable creature. His face is still cut down the middle, a thick red line making him to be the devil he isn't.

"You're halfway there," he says softly, his voice a low song. "But I can't hold out much longer."

The melancholic beauty of him strikes her hard in the chest as she's pulled backwards, away from the poor, tortured beast. She is once again thrown onto a cold, hard floor, but now he is free, his head cradled in her lap. His body is cold and his chest is still, his blood pooled around her knees. Sadness shakes her bones, an insurmountable loss curling tightly in her ribs. Oh, this changed beast.

The weight of him is replaced with metal in her hands and she's back on her feet. Her blade's hilt is long and a beautiful gold, spiraling cages wrapped around its mouth. Her weapon is heavy, heavier than one has been in years. Her yellow-orange blade snaps to life and she glares fiercely at her dark-robed adversary, his own blade rippling and raw.

" _Traitor!_ " It's her voice yelling the poisonous word. When he doesn't move, she takes up her heavy blade and charges, dark robes cascading like a merciless tide. Their blades connect, but he slips and she impales him, stabbing cleanly through his chest.

It took Rey a moment to realize the scream was hers.

She was breathing hard, her crystal gripped so tightly in her hand. Everything was spinning—the world, her head, her stomach— _everything_. That was…horrible. She wasn't sure which part of the vision had been the worst, but the whole thing cumulated into a sickening weight in her stomach. She couldn't stand. She was frozen there in the cold, fear paralyzing up her spine. Was she afraid of becoming _that_ , or was she afraid of…afraid of his death?

She needed to get out of this place, and fast. Fast, or she might vomit and shake.

Rey did not remember the walk back, only the curling worry that softly touched her mind when she finally came to the cavern's mouth. Kylo was sitting on a tall rock, his face pained but his head elsewhere. He whirled to life like a machine when she approached. "Are you all right?"

"I want to leave here, now."

"That crystal needs to be set while you're on planet. This place is…sacred, incredibly so."

"Can we go back to the ship please?"

He nods and leaps gracefully from his perch. He gives her a once-over before frowning, reaching to touch her cheek. Why the hell does he have to go and do _that?_

"You're bleeding. There's bacta on the ship, but that'll freeze over if you don't cover it."

He was so strange and she couldn't read a lick of what he was thinking.

• • •

Her hands shook when she sat down in the small cabin of the cruiser. Kylo had run through everything he'd brought for her and nothing stood out. He said to pick the pieces that felt right, that resonated with the Force in tune with her crystal, but none of it was _correct_.

"Do you have anything _else?_ "

The workaholic glanced up from his datapad. "I have some old parts stored somewhere around here, but I don't think they'll be of any use."

"Can I see them?"

"Are you really not having any luck?"

She shook her head.

He sighed. "The floor panel to your right, check under that."

Oh Force he wasn't kidding. The lightsaber parts were ancient, like things from a bygone era that needed to _stay_ bygone. She lifted a long non-jointed hilt piece and felt its weight in her palm. It was sturdy, heavy, and tall. She stood with it and found it came up to her hip by itself.

It was part of the lightsaber from her vision.

The long gold-white handle that curled and spiraled with hand guards and ornamentation from a culture long dead, she held it now. It would be one-sided but total the length of her old staff. Dipping back into the compartment, she dug around for what she _knew_ was going to be inside. No disappointments today—she held a weighty golden bauble in her right hand. _Perfect_.

"That thing is going to weigh a _ton_ ," Kylo said incredulously, confused as to why she was making such poor choices. They weren't poor from _her_ perspective.

"Good."

"Heavy blades defeat the purpose."

"Maybe I want to wield it differently."

He frowned but said nothing, returning to his numbers.

She set all the pieces down, her handle and counterweight laid beside the internal mechanisms that supported and controlled the crystal. With a deep breath, she cleared her head and reached out to the Force.

One went here, another went there…the crystal fit like this, the bauble like that. The sweeping hilt curled down and around, locking smoothly into place on the archaic base. She worked for a half hour until finally—

A yellow blade snapped to life in her hands, making Kylo jump.

"You're _finished?_ "

"Is it supposed to take a while?"

He shrugged, eyes glued to her new lightsaber. "It looks…"

"Too weird?"

"Like a Guard's saber, but you've only let it have one blade." He narrowed his eyes. "It's…ancient, almost."

"I can take it apart—"

"No. That's yours. It called for you to put it together the way you did."

She smiled down at her creation. Its weight felt right in her hands.

* * *

Jealousy licked horribly at Ren's feet. It had taken him a week to build his faulty, fucked up saber and she snaps a beautiful golden weapon together in a half hour. How? _How?_ To which god had she scarified her soul to come up with her design so quickly? And why hadn't that god offered to take his?

Beside the jealousy sat pride. She kept proving herself and he could feel nothing but a boastful satisfaction that _his_ apprentice was coming along so well. Snoke might be poisoning her dark, but he was the one teaching her. She learned better and faster than he could have ever hoped.

"Can we get off this ball of ice now?"

He put his pad down. "Yes, we're finished here."

He wandered back to the cockpit, leaving her to play around with her new weapon. He could start takeoff procedures without a copilot no problem—he hadn't had a copilot in years. He sat down and brought the control board to life, running checks and tests to be sure the ice hadn't messed up any part of the fuel lines.

A warning flared to life, all the screens before him glazing over red. He swore. He _really_ swore.

"What, what's going on?"

She was behind him, her hands on the back of his chair, and he knew his face must match the warning color below. "Engines won't take full power. The heating system's malfunctioning."

It was her turn to swear. "I know how to _fix this_ , but it's going to take _ages_."

"How long is 'ages'?"

"Ten hours minimum. We can't run the heat high and the lines need to climb to operational temperature."

Ten _hours?_ They'd already been gone for _seven_.

"Is there another cabin on the ship?"

"No, why?"

"We…" He turned back to look at her. Her face was scrunched in pain and exhaustion. "It's cold here. We need to conserve energy if we're running the power so low."

Oh _hell_ no. "Are you suggesting," he started slowly, "that we share a _bed?_ "

"You _tried_ to do it before."

"Drunk, I was drunk and I didn't think you were _there!_ "

"Well then flyboy, do you have any _better_ suggestions to not freeze ourselves to death? It's going to get cold, _really kriffing cold_ in the next hour."

He didn't.

They collectively found four blankets on board and wedged one down the middle of the bed along with any pillow to spare. It was too small for his height, and it was too small for the two of them at once, especially since he had to curl his legs up to even _fit_. He wanted no part of being here, no part of doing this, no part of freezing his ass off on this Force-forsaken sacred planet. A horrible slice of his mind wanted every part of touching her, of holding her close for warmth, both selfish and selfless in its desires. He wanted to cut that slice out and let it freeze outside.

"Look," she said when the lights were off; the two of them pretending the other didn't exist in the darkness. "I'm just as perturbed about this as you are."

"I don't think that's possible."

"Let's just…get some rest, okay? In the morning, we can pretend like none of it ever happened."

He tried very hard to keep that up, but he couldn't sleep. She was so close to him, not even an arm's length from his chest, and his shoulders were on fire. She was right that he'd tried to climb into bed with her before, but that was before…before all this. Before the want made a home in his spine and prodded at him whenever she so much as _smiled_ at him. She _smiled_ at him, the undeserving beast. The beast that wasn't worth her, not in any universe or galaxy. Force, he wanted her. He wasn't sure what _way_ he did, only knew that it was there, biting around his ankles, nipping at his ears.

He was lying with his back to hers, her heat radiating from the thin shirt she wore. Less clothing helped body heat transfer, she'd said. He swore she must have _known_ he would cease to be logical if they were in close quarters under thin layers of clothing. She must have _known_ —

Rey shifted in her sleep and her back pressed against his. Ren's brain short-circuited. He would be dead before she woke.

* * *

Rey's dream was made of light.

It was warm, a nice change from the cold outside. In it, she stood on a sanded beach, cool water lapping easily at her bare feet. It was beautiful on the beach; the sun bright and the ocean clear as glass. She breathed in the salted air before the image changed, becoming a long stretch of a hallway. She was wearing something ridiculous to her, but not to whomever stuck her in it. Hands touched her shoulders and smiles met her eyes. She beamed. She'd never felt so happy in her life. The scent of flowers— _Force_ , she loved flowers—drifted lazily through the air and she relished the smells. Earthy, wonderful, and cool. Cedar and pine clipped around her nose and she turned with a grin, her body knowing the source but her brain in the dark.

The dream shifted again, away from whites and yellows and pinks. She held someone she cared about in her arms. The face was obscured by light and the voice was mixed into several, but still she thought she knew whom it was. Their body was warm and she laughed against their chest, pressing her face into the cloth of their shirt. This person was important to her, moreso than she thought someone could ever be. And they cared about her more than she thought she could ever deserve. It was so…comforting.

The dream floated away as she stirred awake, overheating in the cocoon she was nestled inside. One of her arms was just not responsive in the slightest, having fallen asleep under her pillow. The other was fine and she yawned, carding her fingers through very…soft…hair.

Wait.

She opened an eye to see a pale neck, her gaze level with the crew collar of a thin dark shirt.

No, Force, no, no, _no._

Kylo shifted, one of his hands so briefly grazing her flank. A fire spread down her back. She with withdrew her arms in horror as he seemed to wake, sleep hanging so heavily in his eyes. He cocked an eyebrow at her before rolling over, dragging the blankets with him. That was fine, she was burning up now anyway. She switched sides too, not wanting to touch him again and spontaneously combust.

He had stars for eyes. He had _stars_ for eyes and the galaxy in his gaze.

She felt flames rise in her throat when she met her dreams again. The word from her mouth burned on her tongue and she was livid, waiting for the ocean to stop roaring to scream her discontent.

" _SKYWALKER!_ "

And there he was, laughing so hard he doubled over.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with all of you? What the _kriff_ was that?"

"A release of inhibitions?" He stopped chuckling long enough to take a breath. "The need to stay _warm_ somewhere frigid as Ilum? Part of it's getting undressed; the other part is _not_ sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. Doesn't do well for conserving heat."

"You're behind this somehow."

"Much to my wife's relief, I am _not_ behind this somehow."

"I don't want to be anywhere _near_ him," she groaned, staring out into the turbulent sea. "He's horrible and unpredictable and…" And she didn't want to be the cause of his death, not like what she'd seen in the vision.

Anakin put a hand on her shoulder. "You'll figure it out. Put your own safety first, but you can figure it out in due time."

"Can you tell me what it is they're betting about?"

"Padmé will have my head. Pay close attention to what's happening around you—I'm sure you'll be the one to understand it first."

* * *

In the dark, pulled from a light sleep, Ren ran a lazy finger across the skin of her shoulder, having woken to find her back flush against his chest. He'd never have an opportunity like this again, so he quietly savored her warmth, the light rise and fall of her side as she slept, the flowery smell of her hair when it was this close to his nose. It took every ounce of strength to not kiss her neck and he was eventually lulled back to sleep, his dreams conflicted and strange, her smile opening a hole in his chest.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ooooooohhh oooh what's that developing? Rey, girl, what _are_ you doing?

Hopefully back to a more regular update cycle! My spring break starts next Friday, so I'll see how much I can get done in the week I'm off!


	11. The Gift

11\. The Gift

He woke first in the morning, his face buried in her neck. Ren could not decide if it were an embarrassing position or one he'd prefer under different circumstances. Her skin was warm. He hated himself.

It took a generous effort to crawl from the piles of blankets out into the cold of the cabin, like being reborn into a frozen hell. With the chill came the dampening of lingering thoughts and the suppression of images only fit for the dark looseness of night. He needed to tape himself back together in the early dawn if he wanted to save face upon their return.

She yawned and it spooked him out of the hunt for his layers, turning his body so slightly towards the noise. Her eyes were on him as she sat up, her hair cascading down around her shoulders. Heat rose to his face, hyperaware that he was only in a thin shirt and underwear. All of the scars on his legs were visible to her, every nick, line, and burn. His stomach turned in shame at the physical manifestations of his weakness.

How could he live with himself if he were weak before her? How was he supposed to protect her from Snoke if he couldn't protect his own skin from damage?

Shame again. Regret. Disgust burbled up in response to his infatuation.

She looked away, curling her knees up under the covers. "I've lost my pants."

His ears must have been red and he wouldn't have been surprised to find steam rising from his cheeks. Of course he knew she meant they'd gotten kicked off during sleep, but his mind couldn't help but wander to other scenarios. The images haunted him. Her sprawled on her back, his knees caging her hips as he yanked the fabric of her trousers from her waist, one of his hands on her bare thigh, the other running under the waistband of her underwear, combing through dark, wet curls to find—

He turned ferociously on his heel and reached out through the Force for her missing clothing article, flinging it at her without looking. He stalked from the room without another glance, not another sound, having no desire for her to catch the flush on his face or the growing hardness in his underwear.

 _It's only lust_ , he told himself unconvincingly. Only the craving for an act he hadn't performed in over a year. He was sick with sexual frustration; that had to be it. Locked in the tiny fresher he quickly tended to himself, already hot and painfully swollen, needing release. _Only lust_. He came to the thought of her orgasm, of how his name would sound when moaned headily from her mouth, of how her eyes would look brimmed with satiation.

He tried not to look at his reflection when he cleaned himself off, guilt, shame, and loathing crawling nimbly around in his stomach. Disgusting beast. Unworthy.

Coward.

* * *

That was…strange, Rey decided as she dressed. The whole 'sleeping beside her adversary for warmth' situation was already strange in its own right, but him running off without so much as a smug, chiding word was bizarre.

It was a downright wonder she wasn't more exhausted after such a restless night. She had never shared a bed with another person before and the heat and unfamiliarity of it had her waking up every half hour to an hour, finding herself contorted into new and interesting positions. Twice she was nearly off the bed and once she _actually_ fell onto the floor. The most interesting was when she woke with her face pressed into his throat, one of his hands at her hip. It had been a peaceful few moments before she came to her senses and realized _he_ was the one she was curled against, not a friend or a lover. Not that she had any real experience with either.

Still, his warmth had been…comforting.

She shook off the thought.

She forwent food in favor of checking the heating and cooling systems, finding the engines working at a sufficient level for departure. A quick walk round in a snowy hell and she decided they could leave, no other concerning developments on the outside of the ship. The ice on the wings would need to melt before takeoff, but it wouldn't be an issue with the engines back online.

Kylo had his arms sunk into the guts of the hyperdrive generator when she boarded, grease smeared on his cheek. He finished whatever he was doing and retracted when she entered, resealing the case. She'd never noticed how large his hands were.

"Everything's clear," he said as he stepped past her, rolling his sleeves back down. "If you want to start her up, be my guest."

That freed her of musings and she climbed up into the cockpit, excited to see how this class of ship worked. It couldn't be too much different from what she was used to and getting the okay from Kylo meant he had some grain of trust in her piloting abilities. Maybe he'd let her do this more often.

…Wasn't she supposed to be trying to get _away_ from the Order?

The thought vanished when he sat beside her in the copilot's chair, his gazed fixed to the control board. "It won't be a long return, but the _Finalizer_ has moved since we've left." His fingers flitted across the keys and a coordinate map sprang to life on the viewport. "Captain Phasma has been kind enough to send our new position. She doesn't know why we left so don't say anything stupid."

"I'm not the one with the loose lips."

He responded to her half-hearted jibe with a black look, his eyes menacing and dark. She sobered and shut her mouth, not knowing what caused his sudden flip in behavior. He'd been gentle the whole trip and now he was back to gnashing his teeth. She frowned. Fine, let him show his true colors.

• • •

He ignored her when they returned to the _Finalizer_. She was ushered back to her rooms and locked inside when he went off to go do something for Snoke. She waited around for hours, debating slashing her way out of the doors and making a mad dash for it before she convinced herself he'd be returning at any moment, ready to hunt her down. But he never showed up. Never came back. She ate dinner angrily and meditated for an hour before calling it quits, showering, and going to bed. Screw him and screw this hell in which she was imprisoned.

In the morning, he returned with his mask on, forcing her awake and dragging her away to see Snoke. So much for him giving a shit about what happened to her ever-fracturing mental state. She couldn't fight off the darkness that slithered its way up her legs and she fell from the grace she'd worked _so hard_ to keep.

It lingered longer this time, staying with her well into the next day. Kylo was unchanged and unbothered by her sharp tongue and short outbursts, opting to stand back when she wailed on him. She was gruffly pulled into a large library and told to sit there and think until he came back.

By the time she was fetched, her anger had boiled away, leaving her exhausted. The Dark was forced from her conscious again, this time carving a deeper scar into her psyche. The days ahead felt long, arduous, and uncountable. Rey felt sick.

It took another week of biting, snapping interactions to get him to agree to spar. He would be leaving for Giaca soon and she would not get any practice or skill in for at least two weeks, perhaps even a month.

"Steady yourself."

He stood before her, his lightsaber ignited in his hand. Hers hummed in her grip, but it was awkward to wield and heavy, causing her hands and knees to shake. She knew it would be a weighty tool upon its completion, but she hadn't stopped to think about how her shoulders would ache with each swing.

"I can't."

"You _chose_ to build your weapon in this way, now you must live with your poor decision. _Steady your hands_."

She took a deep breath and tried again, willing her arms not to quake with overexertion.

He shifted his stance back into an opener of the Juyo form, something he'd learned long before his fall. She couldn't match it, not with the crafted style of her blade, and instead slipped into the overhead hold of Soresu. Her lats, deltoids, and triceps were screaming but she kept her blade steady, its heavy hilt running above her head.

They start and she is slow on her feet. His movements are quick and relentless, unpredictable and heavy. She fends him off with difficulty, her muscles unprepared and untrained. His blade crashes before her face and she is pushed backwards, stumbling with his weight. He blocks her many times over before delivering a kick square to her chest and she crashes.

"That was horrible." Kylo disengaged his blade and stepped around her, picking up her saber from where it had fallen. He seemed curious but disappointed by it, holding it in both hands. It was far too short for his height. "If you could rearrange it so the base were detachable, you'd have less difficulty swinging it around."

"Then I'd lose the length."

"So? What good is that doing you now?" He waited for her to stand, watching closely with a scrutinizing eye. "You crave a staff but you've built a club. These weapons are _blades_ first, bludgeons second."

"You told me to keep it as I made it. You want me to tear the whole thing apart?"

"I thought your arms would be stronger with all the hardship you've faced."

"And now you call me _weak?_ " Her temper flared and she ripped his weapon from his belt, ignoring the feral snarl springing to his lips. "I'd like to see _you_ try!"

" _Fine_."

He snapped her blade to life and started in Form V—Djem So. She raised his saber in Form III again and he pounced.

He forces her backwards with her own yellow blade, the weight of it aiding his power. She finds his saber easier to maneuver but more awkward in her hands. Twirling like a top, she thinks she is doing well at blocking him until the counterweight at the end of her weapon smashes hard into her side and she goes down like a felled tree.

Rey sucked in a breath to find nothing but fire and needles in her chest. Her rib— _fuck_ —her rib was cracked. The pain was an unwanted nostalgia and she whined in her next breath.

She did not look him in the eye when he kneeled beside her, his face swimming with mixed emotions. "You're a kriffing _asshole_."

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft in her ears, the past two weeks of aggression and irritation nowhere to be found. "Let me—can I—where did I hit you?"

"What the _kriff_ do you mean _where?_ " she grit, tears welling to her eyes. "You cracked my rib in _exactly_ the same place as before."

"I've never…" He bit his lip in thought. "I need you to stay still so I can fix this, okay?"

"I can fix it _myself_."

"Rey, stop."

She rolled her eyes and kept still, wincing when he moved her arms over her head. His touch was soft—like the first time he'd done this—and he was careful when he lifted her shirt away from the injury. She could see the edges of purple and red already bubbling up on her ribs.

His hands were a little shaky when he pressed his fingers delicately to her side. A strange, heady feeling emanated from his touch, spreading up her spine and down her toes. With him focused and her lightheaded, she let her eyes wander over him, tracing the grooves of his arm muscles, the broadness of his body, the way his lips pursed in concentration. He was so _big_.

The strange euphoria built its way into her head and she giggled. It made her like the way his hands felt on her skin.

"Oh, _fuck_."

His swear brought her back to his face.

"Do you feel a little odd?"

"A good odd. I like it."

He grimaced and sighed before slowing the amount of energy he was passing to her.

"Why have you been so hostile to me lately?" She wasn't sure what made her ask. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the reason, but the euphoria did.

He didn't answer, not right away. The next sigh sounded like it had been stuck in his chest for years. "You frustrate me. You're stubborn, aggressive, and headstrong, and you frustrate me."

"Why keep me around if you hate me that much?"

"I don't _hate_ you." His eyes drifted over her face and she felt naked in her clothes. "If I hated you, I'd tell you to sleep off the crack and deal with the pain."

"Right, right, I'm the apprentice, I can't go off dying."

He looked a little upset with her words, but nodded, his voice low. "Right."

When she could stand again, he brought her back to her rooms, careful not to let her sway too much on her feet. She was having a hard time not grinning, the colors everywhere a shade brighter than they had been. This must have been what he felt like when she fixed up his shoulder.

"Try to get some rest. It helps to sleep it off."

She took the towel from his outstretched hand. "When are you leaving again?"

"Tomorrow evening."

"And you're _sure_ I can't come?"

"It's going to be dangerous, even for me. It would be wrong to jeopardize safety."

She nodded, not satisfied with his answer. "Okay."

"Sleep, please."

He exited her rooms quickly and she made straight for the shower. Pulling off sweaty, dirty clothes, she stepped eagerly into the spray. Drunk on healing with pleasant bubbles in her stomach, she touched herself into a white explosion, her hands feeling as though they belonged to someone else.

* * *

Back in his own room, he felt a stirring across their bond, the one he had tried so hard to keep locked down. The feeling was light, giddy, and full of arousal. He was drinking awful, cream-heavy caf and trying to work through the last of his preparations—nothing arousing about data sheets. It wasn't his.

A moan bubbled up and oh, Force, she was _touching herself_. Right there in the rooms adjacent to his. Want coiled in his stomach and shot off, making his shoulders and neck tingle. This was private; he should tune it out, but the opportunity…

He shucked his pants and lay down on the sofa, hands frantic to free himself of his underwear. Ren was already semi-hard and another warm groan from her side of the bond made him twitch in his grip.

What the _kriff_ was he doing?

Did it even matter?

He jerked up his length, picturing her hands where his were, her lips swollen and teasing. Her laugh was perfect and his brain stuttered when he felt her getting closer. He should close the bond up tight right now, never think about doing this again, and avoid the shame to follow. But her arousal was bleeding heavily into his and he was growing uncomfortably erect, the need for release coursing steadily through his veins.

Lust, lust, lust, lust. That's all it was. That's all it had to be, could be. No room for anything but pure unabashed carnal desires. It didn't have to be her. It didn't, it didn't—

Her orgasm slammed into him like a freighter and he came unexpectedly hard on his stomach, toes curling, legs shaking. He could picture nothing but her, water from the shower dripping down her cheekbones, lips red, her chest heaving from the exertion. Maybe one of her hands was caressing a small, perfect breast, thumb rolling over the nipple—

The aftershocks pattered out and he felt disgusting.

He was a disgusting, fucking mess.

Still painfully sensitive, he rose from the sofa and made his way to the fresher, determined to wash the filth of his actions from his soiled skin. Dry and metaphorically clean, he ventured into his bedroom to sleep, unwilling to return to the site of his grave weakness just yet.

It was wrong to think he could escape her.

In his dreams, he hovered over her, perched on his forearms. Her legs were locked around his hips and she wore the most beautiful of smiles, dirty horrible words leaving her otherwise innocent lips. Her nails raked up and down his back as he thrust into her, the heat of her body driving him close to insanity. He rewarded her moans with a hand snaked between them, massaging and stroking her to climax. He came with a low growl when she groaned his name, the syllable saturated and thick on her lips.

 _Ben_.

He had to change his sheets when he woke.

* * *

Rey had a startling headache for the whole of the next day, but her side had healed beautifully. Thinking back to the shower made her cringe in shame and she did her best to avoid it. It had been strange, though, as if another presence had been pushing against her fingers, running down her thighs. Kylo had shut down their bond entirely, so it couldn't have been him—that thought made her shudder. Perhaps the dizzy result of the healing had caused it? Whatever, the thoughts only produced redness in her face and a heavy stone in her stomach. She opted not to dwell any longer.

He was to leave in a matter of hours. Unlike the last time, Snoke had instructed him not to bring her—she would be more of a hindrance than a help with her inability to block her signature well or with any consistency and this planet was ripe with Force-sensitive life forms, some more deadly than others. Kylo himself was not the best, but he was more trained—stronger, bigger—and therefore he could take care of himself. Hopefully.

Her mind tricks and suggestion abilities had improved, but no one had spoken out against leaving her barely guarded around a bunch of non-sensitives. Maybe they trusted her more? The darkness that continued to edge on her mind said yes, they did. They knew she wouldn't be itching to break away, to leave and find the Resistance. And it was right, knew her well; she would not be making an escape attempt. Too much was at stake. She had so much to lose.

With a grand sigh, she hauled herself from the meditation room floor and went to the wall switch, raising the tables. She hadn't practiced this exercise since the first time he'd shown her, mask grim in his hands and grin wide on his lips.

The water in the basin was cool and clear, reflecting her image up at her eyes, light shimmering off the pool. Rey looked more tired now than she had in weeks. Her hair was limp around her shoulders, long and knotted and aching to be put up. Months had gone by and she'd gotten so used to it tickling her neck that she no longer noticed the missing hair ties and the missing air jetting past the skin of her ears. Her eyes lacked an earlier spark and her lips were chapped—not even a slight change from the world she'd once known.

Clearing her mind with a deep breath, she closed her eyes and drew attentions to the mirror of water. The room melted away and became blackness, her fingers lingering over a silver dish unlike the one she was sat before. The images in it trickled and pulsed, encouraging her to place her hand inside the bowl. She obliged, feeling darkness and light sucking into her veins as she vanished into the liquid.

An ancient canyon spread before her, faces of the long dead carved into red rocks, looming far and high above her head. Some were pensive while others were kind or cruel. All had eyes that followed her but never moved, burning long trains into the skin of her back. She felt naked but was clothed. Blood had run through these crevice walls.

The Valley of the Souls.

This was no place she'd seen, no place she would ever see outside of dreams.

There were voices trapped in the soil, the air, the clouds. Nothing but pain emanated from the towering features of this place. The part of her that still knew the light cried silently in the cool chambers of her heart. This was a torturous place—a scared place.

"The Force is very powerful here."

She shifted, fear tinkling in her toes. The man in front of her was young but old. Tired, with centuries of wizened creases on his brow, with eyes the age of a youth. He appeared wise and sagely, qualities she had seen sparse times past.

"I feel their suffering," she said quietly, shaken by how her voice ricocheted on the valley walls. Meek, lost, childlike.

"A great weight on the mind." He nodded and stepped closer, his image shimmering like mirage in the desert heat. "A battle of light and dark took place here, and so the Force calls you to balance the wrongs, make the color gray."

Her stomach churned. She wanted no greatness, no deeds to lie upon her shoulders. She was no knight of an old children's tale, meant to save the galaxy from a great evil. "I am no balancer."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. It all depends upon the angle from which you look. If not you, then him. If not him, then you. Maybe neither, maybe both."

"And if neither?"

"Well, it cannot possibly be worse than the last time."

This was not a comforting thought.

"Trust yourself. Trust him, however lost he may currently be."

She snorted despite herself. "His character is impossible to pin down."

The man smiled and her eyes narrowed, realizing her mistake, realizing she'd alluded to the person in question without any indication it could be _him_. But it was, gods, it always was. What a fool she was quickly becoming.

"What must I beat out in order to do that?"

"A misery of history on both sides"

Like a great flash, the Valley spun into a molten core, beings with red skin and long tusks controlling the darkness that fell like thick honey down onto the universe. Light burst forth, chasing the red aliens into a nonexistence, but pretenders who bore their names for titles rose to contest with the Light's fighters. Beams of plasma attached to back-borne contraptions clashed in heat until they too fizzled and were consumed. Flashes of battles and power scattered down in fleeting fragments, landing like meteoroids around her feet.

A man in a great mask called by the darkness was undone by a ferocious knight, bringing him back into a world of grey. Tides turned turbid when she was dragged by a dark undertow, ripped from his healing side. There love was so great Rey's chest ached deeply when the image of her redemption was shattered by his return to darkness, disappearing to the end of time.

Centuries flickered by, years and years of conflict and war, halting at the entrance of Skywalker, his face pained and his mind cracked. Dark seeped out, merged inseparably with the love of his wife, her blood coating his hands when from the ashes he rose more machine than man. He was the balancer whose work did not subside until his death.

Luke, then, solemn and brave, stepped from shadow to end a fight he did not start, failing when caution brought about the next ripple in the Force. Before her emerged a burning landscape, the bodies of the dead thrown mercilessly on blood-soaked ground. The trees were made of charred bones, their limbs wailing in the wind. In the center of the battlefield he stood, his blazing weapon lighting the streaks that trailed down his cheeks. He was too young for a fate this harsh. Bowing his head from the sight of his companions, the newly born Kylo Ren wept.

• • •

Rey's eyes opened to the sound of the door clicking open, the man before her with different eyes from the boy standing on the bloodied, muddy soil. His face was the same stone it had been when he brought her here this morning, but his gait was smooth and cautious.

She pulled herself from her cross-legged position, knees creaking as she stood. "Did he send for me?"

"No." He ran his free hand through his hair, the other's nervous fingers playing on the side of his helmet. "I don't know if he'll be calling for you at all while I'm gone."

"How many hours left?"

"Two. Come, we have some things to figure out before I have to leave for preparations."

They walked side by side to her chambers, neither saying a word. His mask hid his face and she did her best to hide her disappointment in being left behind. Their shoulders brushed once and a crippling loneliness decided to clamber back into her brain and make her chest ache. They hadn't spent a day apart since she was first taken aboard, always by his side. It had been nice to have someone close by and breathing, a strange experience that had escaped her all those years spent of Jakku. She didn't want to go back to that feeling, never wanted the hollowness to return. And while she wouldn't be alone on the ship, she would be denied an equal.

"I fought to have you come along," he said when the door to her rooms closed behind him. He took off his mask carefully, more carefully than the first time. His eyes were genuine. "But I couldn't make a good enough argument. I'm sorry."

It was tearing her apart, the feeling of abandonment. "I'll fair."

"I'm being forced to leave you in the company of _Hux_."

She stared. "Please sneak me on the ship with you."

"I'll get hell for it."

"I cannot promise I won't _kill_ him." They had only brief interactions, but rarely had anyone caused such anger and hatred bubble up on her skin. " _Please_. You snuck me to Ilum."

"That was different and much quicker of a trip. This is _weeks_. Someone will notice you're missing."

"What's the worst Snoke can do?"

He shot her a look. "I came to say _goodbye_ , not be guilted or persuaded into taking you with me." He set his helmet down on the sofa. "Close your eyes, I have something for you."

"Why do I need to close my eyes?"

"Just _trust_ me instead of arguing, please. I'm frustrated too, okay?"

She sighed and obeyed.

"Open your hands."

Something cool and rectangular was pressed into her palms, light but long. She felt her fingers around it a moment longer before looking.

"You have to open it."

Why?

Her fingers found the latch and she lifted the lid, staring incredulously at the contents. Three circular elastics with small decorations and one decorative glass comb sat on black silk. Hair ornaments. Her stare was then directed to him. "What the hell."

"It's taken forever to actually _find_ you a hair tie, and I know you haven't had any luck."

"But what's it for?"

"It's a gift, it's not _for_ anything."

A gift? He expected nothing for this?

He reached for the box and she gave it back, cocking an eyebrow.

"Turn around a moment."

After a second of fussing with something out of her vision, fingers lifted hair away from her neck, combing easily through knotty strands. His hands were bare of gloves and she could feel the heat of his skin against her scalp. She _should_ flip around and tell him to _quit_ with these casual touches, but she stayed perfectly still, her heart beating a little too quickly.

His hands carded easily through the rat's nest on her head until all was smooth, fingers brushing her fringe backwards to meet the ridge of her skull. "My mother wore extravagant hairstyles when I was little," he said softly, pulling the first bun into place. "She taught me how to braid it into all kinds of shapes. Once or twice I made it look ridiculous enough to have my father rolling with laughter."

Kylo's voice trailed off with the last few words, hands stilling in their work. His nostalgia was potent and it caught her around the waist, making her feet unsteady. They were trapped in a moment that would soon be lost forever to time.

"I hope this isn't too strange," he said with a melancholic chuckle, gathering her hair into easy strands, less shakiness in his touch.

"It's a little strange, but not bad."

"No?"

"No."

With the third bun secured, his fingers ghosted down her neck and retreated to his sides, leaving warm air and the sense of loss hot on her skin. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she hid her face when she turned around. No one had touched her so gently before, nothing so intimate gracing her life. It had to be him. It was he on the ice planet and it was he now in her rooms, his monster's face curved into a sad smile. He wasn't one person anymore, his eyes no longer charcoal and flames. Dark but not fierce, heady like a chocolate wine.

"Please take me with you."

Her voice was low and scratchy, unable to keep away the elements of loneliness that started to prick around her eyes, her lungs, and her stomach. She bit her lip and watched his face crumble.

"I can't. But…" He looked down, then up, fingers twisting nervously. How frightened he'd become as of late, how changed. "There's a small compartment in the ship's first deck, under the floor. It's hollow, and if you hurry…"

A lip-splitting smile cracked to life on Rey's face. She could kiss him.

"I won't let you down."

* * *

Leia stood in front of the holoprojector in the base's main conference room. Luke was beside her, but he was doing nothing to calm her nerves. It had been a long time since they'd spoken to the person they were calling now. It would be a miracle if he decided to help, but he was on decent terms with them both. There was hope, even if it were small.

The man in question's visage flickered to life in front of the twins, his serious expression melting so slightly at their image.

"It's been a few years, hasn't it?"

Leia took a breath, uncharacteristically nervous. "We need to ask a favor, Lando. A lot has changed recently."

He nodded. "So I've heard. Poured out a drink too many in the past couple of months. What can I do, Princess?"

She frowned at the title and let Luke explain.

"There's a planet in the Unknown Regions called Giaca. I've heard of it, and we thought you must have, too."

Lando nodded. "I have. Don't like it, but I have. A lot of good stuff there, but a lot of risk in getting them. I hope you have a good reason for asking."

"We think—no," Leia stopped, correcting herself, "we know the First Order has its location. If I understand correctly, there's an ancient surveillance system somewhere on the planet."

"And a whole lot more. Smart to call me—what do you need?"

"Any information you've got. Maybe some tech, depends on what's in store. We can pay if you need."

"That won't be necessary. This is for Han."

* * *

 **A/N:** Life got a little nuts but I'm only a day late! Next stop, new planet!


	12. Mix Together

12\. Mix Together

It took so much strength to tell her no and he did not have it in him. He sighed to himself after she rushed past, leaving to collect her belongings. He should make haste and disappear too; he wasn't finished preparing. He had only intended to present her with the hair ties and get the hell out, but the fanciful quirk of her lips would be his ultimate downfall.

A fantastic lie it was that he managed to keep up, to both himself and the others around him. He was devolving into a realm of self-pity that needed to be quashed immediately, but he hadn't the nerve. Where was it all coming from? Wasn't he supposed to be some fearsome, wild knight, full of power and ability? Though he'd never been in control, never was able to channel much of his strength and talent. And wasn't she proof?

Force, he needed to _get a grip_. If he was to make it out successful in this mission, everything else had to be discarded and forgotten until he could have a moment to breathe.

Ren snapped at Hux all through what felt like his ten-millionth briefing. Hux looked put off but recovered well, sneering his way through rehearsed dialogue. More jeers and a huffed warning followed before it was quiet in the craft. This ship was bigger than the others he'd taken recently—not the size of the command shuttle, but large enough to transport everything needed for the mission and from the planet. He hadn't gotten over the surprise that they were letting him do this _alone_ , especially with how his last mission had ended.

It was a six-hour trip through hyperspace to the quadrant Giaca rested in and he was hoping to catch up on desperately needed sleep. This time it was no surprise the ship only had one crew cabin (again) but he was prepared to—

Oh for _fuck's_ sake.

She was already _asleep_ in the _one kriffing bed_. Know what? _Know what?_

"Move over."

Boots off, he nudged her half awake, practically pushing her to the other half of the bed. He was so tired—screw it, just kriffing screw it—and he had little to gain from being awake.

She was on top of the sheets—what luck—and she glowered before rolling onto her side. "You can ask nicely, you know."

"I don't take orders from apprentices. Pass me the blanket over there, would you?"

"Maybe I don't respond kindly to demands," she said through a sleepy mouth, tossing the blanket at him.

"Watch it. You're only here because I'm being _nice_."

"I'm here because you _want_ me here."

As a thick horror set into his stomach, she fell promptly back asleep.

His dreams were thankfully nonexistent and he woke to find she was hogging the entire blanket, curled into a tiny ball with fluff and pillows everywhere. It was hard not to laugh.

Rey opened an eye. "What's so funny?"

"You look ridiculous."

"Yeah, well your hair is all messed up."

"Not as badly as yours is going to be."

"And why is _my_ hair going to be all messed up?"

"You're buried under layers of fuzz. Bound to happen."

"Yeah?"

" _Yeah_."

With an evil grin, she pushed him from the bed, hovering at the edge to prevent a return. He reared and she knocked him down. "What are you going to do _now_?"  
"This."

He leapt, pinning her down into the bedding. She laughed while trying to fight him off, her smile enormous. Yes, this felt right. The sheets were a different pattern, but this felt right. He leaned down to kiss her in the hazy sunlight, her fingers lacing into his dark, messy hair. Pulling back, he carefully inspected the scar by her ear. That was new, wasn't it? When did she—

Kylo Ren bolted awake with a heavy sweat on his brow, heart pounding and eyes wide. Rey beside him looked equally perturbed, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She turned to him, pale as snow.

"Did you just—?"

He nodded.

"Do you know _why?_ "

"No."

She looked worse for wear. "I'll never mention it if you won't either."

"Deal."

* * *

He left her to sleep and she remained a stone on the bed, her stomach twisting into all sorts of knots. Dreams were just dreams, right? Even through the Force, they were nothing but delusional creations when they lacked visitation.

Then why did her lips burn?

Why had he looked equally frightened upon waking? How had they _shared_ a dream? Didn't he clamp their connection? Why the hell had they both dreamed about _that?_

Did he… _want_ her like that?

Did she?

No, she couldn't. That couldn't have been her side of the dream. Had she wanted to push him out of bed? Yes, gladly, she'd prefer the extra room without the unnecessary body heat. He was a _furnace,_ which was nice in the cold of Ilum but unpleasant when she was already covered. Force, she was a blanket hog.

She tried to reach out to him but was met with hissing and fire, an annoying change from the coal-brick walls taller than the heavens. There was just no winning with him.

Sitting now on the floor, she gave up her ponderings to meditate. Maybe this would all make better sense if she could calm her mind and _not_ start to panic. She was better than that. She survived fifteen years on Jakku and she had so far survived her tutoring by Kylo Ren, the half-loony Darksider who growled more than he bit. All in all, the past few months had been more exhausting than anything.

Though when she cleared her head and screamed at the skies to make the dream vanish into the void, she was met by a harsh resistance half her own. It mocked her, reminded her she'd never been kissed before, that the sensation was now ruined by _him_. He'd _stolen_ that from her in sleep, unconscious but malicious. He had taken so much from her, and she doubted he realized just how much had been rooted out of the depths of her soul and given unwillingly to him. She wanted it all back, but there was nothing left to do.

She refused to approach the cabin until they were a half hour from coming out of the jump. Slumping into the copilot's chair, she didn't allow herself to skim his figure beside her. "So what exactly are we doing? I never got briefed."

"Giaca is an ancient territory that is host to a surveillance system more advanced than any I've seen before. It's been collecting data for eons and will hopefully have records for some great event that Snoke is obsessed with. No way to know exactly what's there until we see it."

"And what makes this place so dangerous?"

He glanced at her, eyes tired and solemn. "The animals and plants have a direct link to the Force. Some hunt by it, others defend with it. We're both users and we'll be in more danger because of it, but we'll also have a better shot at locating what we need."

"Should we cloak ourselves?"

"You can _try_ , but from what I understand it won't do much good."

They sat in an awkward silence for the entire descent and landing, with the only words spoken commands about landing procedures. It was worse than the first time they interacted on the _Finalizer_ , him frustrated and her ready to claw out his eyes. Now it was…silence and a palpable unease. It was impossible to forget the dream.

He descended the ramp beside her lacking his usual attire, instead outfitted in browns and tans, his boots tall but more suited for the terrain. The world outside was a jungle, hot and humid and thick with smells and colors. Green, there was so much _green_ here. Even in the suffocating heat, she found it beautiful.

"No stalling. It might take forever to traverse this place."

She followed after him, the supplies she carried heavy on her back. "You don't know where we're going?"

"Nope."

"Not even _slightly_ know?"

"No part of this planet has been mapped. You've got good eyes; use them."

They fell into step and she finally gave her mind rest, letting her gaze roam over the landscape. The trees here were enormous, growing tall to touch the clouds. The calls of birds and animals sounded from their branches, colorful and loud. Wide leaves spread like fingers, blotting out sunlight the deeper then explored. It was hot—the sticky kind of hot that came with cool fruits and longed for a gentle breeze. She wondered what plants were edible, what roots would be good for cooking.

"How big is this planet?" she asked when they stopped at the top of an incline, rolling hills cascading down below, their tops covered with grasses and bushes, free of the jungle trees.

"Not huge, but not incredibly small. I doubt we'll have to explore the whole of it, however."

"Shame," she said softly, hand resting on a tree trunk. "It's the most beautiful place I've ever been."

"You haven't been many places. I saw Naboo once when I was younger. I've never been elsewhere that could hope to be as breathtaking."

"You'd have to take me there to prove it."

He smiled at her. Really smiled. "Maybe I have to."

Her cheeks grew warm and she remained quiet as they continued their trek through the undergrowth. She walked behind him, her gaze always trailing across the breadth of his shoulders. There were few clear paths through the jungle and they seemed to be ancient, made of now-cracked stones and trickling weeds. She longed for a staff to walk with, to dig into the soft soil and gage the thickness, the richness, how long ago it had rained. Her lightsaber, though a beautiful weapon, was not well suited for this purpose.

"What do we do when the night comes?"

He had crossed a stream in a graceful step. She was hopping between stones.

"Make camp, I suppose. The darkness is bound to be full of less amicable creatures."

They resumed when her foot hit the opposite bank, continuing side-by-side in a pleasant quiet interrupted only by the gentle symphony of living things. Their shoulders brushed every so often and she thought back to the dream, her neck growing hot in the warm forest. She let herself steal a glance, eyes quick to dart from his face before he noticed. He was…handsome, she'd give him that. Handsome in a cutting, brutal way, the type of attractive that wore warning colors of poison and fatal error. To see him was to burn, and to touch him was to sacrifice. His dark brown eyes caught the sunlight like small hands to fireflies, youthful and daring. In another life, it would not be impossible to see him coveted by hungry lips.

But this was not another life and he wore dark crimson gloves of his committed sins.

Even so, she felt the old jealousy linger on her shoulders, the tingling of spitting anger and hatred that had bloomed on Condular. With a thick sigh, she cursed herself.

"Something the matter?"

She shook her head, incredibly grateful he'd blocked off their bond. This was nothing he needed to know. "No, I'm fine."

"Do you want to practice a few exercises?"

"What kind of exercises?"

"I want you to count out all the living things you can sense in the area. I know the correct number, but since they keep moving I'll give you a margin of error, five either way."

So they wandered further, her marking out every small heartbeat among the tree branches. It was difficult to keep track as they continued to move, but he signaled whenever she should start over, the living things in one area changed over from the last.

"Three hundred and ten," she said when he stood atop a magnificent boulder, the wind trailing across his skin.

He turned to her, the sun echoing from behind his dark hair, making gold the rippling strands. "Close, but not close enough. Try again."

She wondered if it were natural for her feelings to flip so suddenly, so unexpectedly in a foreign land. She knew she hadn't felt true hatred towards him in a long number of days, and he was gentle to her more often than not, but to be friendly? To be a little _more_ than friendly? Perhaps that was pushing it, just the egging on by the dream, by the ease at which he carried himself out of his dark attire, the comfortable rhythm they built in the company of one another.

It was easy to become lost in this forest. Not directionally, but mentally. Emotionally. The dreamlike state of existence sucked her deep into a childhood she'd never known, the heavy blue dusk settling like dust and memories into the layers of foliage. The sky was violet on one half, navy on the other, like a boundary between worlds. A boundary between feelings, desires, realities. She stopped a moment to revel in the change of pace, the change of place, and he let her, watching without a word from a little ways up the slope.

"I never want to leave," she said quietly, a voice inside speaking past her lungs.

* * *

The longer they traveled, the deeper he fell. Four nights in and nothing spectacular had happened, but his world had started to implode. She was no longer a frightened animal reared for defense but an open and excited mind, eyes alive with wonder. Her longing for childhood in a dangerous wood clashed against his hardened chest and he was melting out of the shadows.

The days were hot and unbearable, but the transition into night awakened new sensations and behaviors of which he never thought himself capable. A single glance to her during these times made the darkness lying in him shift and lighten. Away from Snoke, away from the Order, away from relics and old dreams, he felt…different. Not changed, but strange. Here he was one person free of titles and old vices. Here, they were two people. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I had some pretty weird dreams before we left," she told him while sorting a collection of gathered foods.

His back was against a tree, a nice distance away from the fire he'd built. She was closer for the light, the warm flames licking colors up her cheeks, across her forehead, and into her hair. She was bright as the sun.

"What kind of weird?"

"I met your granddad."

His blood went cold. The man he'd idolized all these years…came to _her_ in a dream? "And?"

"He's a sarcastic piece of shit." She inspected a berry before hiding it away in the pouch beside her. "Pretty weird guy. Laughed _way_ too much."

This was…nothing like how he pictured his grandfather. Was it really…? It had to be. He had dreams of the dead Jedi; the one he suspected was Anakin Skywalker but was not, apparently. That man had been calm and gentle, not like what Rey was describing.

"How do you know…?"

"He gave me his name. I knew who he was."

"Odd."

They slept separate of one another and he tried the whole night to block out thoughts of this revelation. If she were correct, years of everything he strived to be would flow down and be lost. If she were wrong, then with whom did she speak?  
Their dreams mixed again—had been mixing since they arrived on Giaca. They refused to speak of it come morning, but at night it was difficult to avoid. And tonight, salt in the wound, they were self-aware.

"What do you think this is supposed to mean?" she asks quietly, her body coiled in front of his, her fingers tracing the moles on his arm.

"What does what mean?"

"This. We're touching like we're familiar. You haven't shrunk away and neither have I. Why?"

"Because it's a dream. You're only here a moment then you're replaced with a figment and vice versa. I'm only real for a second."

"It must _mean_ something."

By then she was gone, a doppelgänger in her place. It was tiring, he thought, never able to breach this conversation while they were conscious. Only in dreams was this acceptable, because only in dreams it would remain. It was tiring, too, that he could feel his heart growing from the necrotic tissue he'd failed to scrape out of his chest. She was radiance and he wrapped his hands tighter around hers. This Rey was not his Rey, but she would do to hold the tide for a night. Or every night, for he could never hope to deserve this.

It hurt, being forced to be two things at once.

They left the forest in the morning, not having found a scrap of what they needed and already a week into the expedition. He calculated that they would be fine for two more, but a fourth would push the rations. She did well foraging on her own, but it wouldn't be enough to sustain them all that long.

Night came in a glade and she was mesmerized by the stars, refusing all conversation until she'd drunk her fill of the sky. They sat together in friendly airs and his world kept doing summersaults, tripping over itself only to land in a daze. She was close enough to kiss, but that would break the amity between them. He withdrew his longing and kept a respectable distance, waiting instead to see her in dreams.

But his dream came to him in a tempest of sand, his blade ignited in front of him, red and harsh and starving. Though the landscape was rough, the presence he sensed was benevolent. He gave himself up the void.

" _Obi-Wan Kenobi!"_ Ren howled into the sandy whirlwind, temper flying in all directions. Rage, utter rage was consuming his thoughts. His hands trembled on the hilt of his lightsaber. " _You're_ the one tormenting me. It's _your_ granddaughter I'm _kriffing_ falling for!"

The old man wandered out of the desert and the storm subsided. "I'm shocked you're being so perceptive after all these months of pigheadedness."

Ren's jaw dropped so slightly. Had he admit that out loud? And to _him_?

"Only fair, I suppose, though I _am_ surprised you think she belongs to me."

He hadn't given it a second thought before he released that pent-up fury into the air. He narrowed his eyes, teeth bared. "She _is_ though, isn't she? There always has to be some _poetry_ in the Force."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "She is who she is. A scavenger, a Force user, someone you care for."

The words hit his stomach like ice. It was that obvious, then. He snapped his blade off, standing still as a mountain. "She'll never love me."

"You and your grandfather, always dealing in absolutes." He moved closer, putting a hand on Ren's shoulder. "The fact that you care so much is good. Follow on that vein. Time changes everything, so why not this?"

"Monsters never change."

"Maybe not, but people do."

He woke up cold in the grasses, the moons halfway across the sky. With a sigh of defeat, he rolled to face her, strong enough to keep his fingers from lingering across cheeks on which they did not belong.

* * *

"So what's up with this new connection crap anyway?"

Rey sat cross-legged on a small rug in front of a small table in a small house. On a small plate on the small table were small fruits. Everything was tiny. It was ridiculous.

"You're on a planet that's considered a Force Nexus, it would be strange if new things _weren't_ happening." Anakin sat opposite her, his hands folded under his chin. He was a frequent dream invader, one she didn't feel conflicted about in the waking world.

She picked a tiny pear-like thing off the plate. "But we're both dreaming about each other. I don't know what _he's_ thinking, but I'm not super thrilled to have _kissed_ him."

"Fake kissed him. Dreams aren't real."

She smirked at the dryness of his smile. "From what Padmé's told me, _you're_ supposed to be the soft-hearted romantic."

"Ah, so you've met my wife. Most beautiful creature in the galaxy, isn't she?"

Padmé had stopped in once or twice before, looking relieved whenever Rey's questions had only focused on Anakin. She was more curious about the Skywalker patriarch than she was about this strange bet they seemed to be thrilled about. "She's awfully pretty. Makes me wonder why you're so against what she's doing."

"My grandson has become…" Anakin sighed through his nose and refolded his hands. She'd hit a rough spot. "A loathsome, vicious, cruel, all around feral creature that hungers for darkness. He wants to be what I was, but he's too unsteady, too incompetent to rise to my level, and thank the Force for that. He is a downright mess and my daughter deserved better than to have a patricidal maniac thrust into her life. He's unworthy of what my wife wants for him."

Her voice shook when she spoke. "You don't think he has _any_ capacity for change? After _you_ committed mass genocide and were redeemed, you don't think _he_ can follow in your footsteps?"

"And what'll he change for? I had the love of my son, what does he have?"

The fruit in her hands was leaking juice down her bare arms. It was sticky—she barely noticed. "Doesn't have the support of the man he needs it from. You're too enraged that he claws up _your_ mistakes into the waking day to _care_ about what his future holds. He reflects the horror you brought upon the galaxy and you _shy away!_ " She was standing now, anger hot in her vision. "He might be your failure, and Leia's failure, and Han's, but he will _not_ _be mine_."

Rey broke from the room, fire on her heels, exiting into a wide seaside where the tiny house was not. Nothing stood behind her but sand, nothing in front but water. Waves crashed and she was lulled. They were not sharing a dream but he stood beside her still, his gaze cast at her, galaxies swimming in his hair. The beautiful, lost, star-eyed child.

His loneliness was aching, echoing her own. They'd been equals from the start, isolated and alone. His darkness waned as hers grew, anger at the universe filling her bones like molten ore into a black metal cast. He was so hated, but couldn't they see he was _changing_? Couldn't they see how much of himself had returned to peek through the pallor of his skin? One day again he'd know his name.

She reached out to take his hand, stalwart in her stance, refusing to let tears flow. Rey stood as the tide came in, letting the sand under her feet be taken back to sea. He would return one day with a smile that could swallow the world.

Rey woke to find wet stains on her cheeks, the air chilly on her shoulders. Kylo slept on beside her, his brow furrowed in a nightmare. Exhausted from her arguments she hadn't the strength to rein in her desires and she laid a cool palm on his hot face, trying to ease the dream with her touch. He relaxed when her thumb, mind of its own, brushed across his cheekbone. This face was Ben Solo's face, and she made that the battle cry to carry her through the war.

* * *

A week and a half in, the first danger split the world in two.

Ren didn't sense it until it was too late, and by then they had walked almost neatly and surely into a trap. Large, growling, and hungry, a Hrosma tiger crept out of the underbrush, wide mouth bearing many rows of terrible teeth.

It was closer to Rey, who took a second too long with her lightsaber. He watched, stunned, as a paw knocked her off balance. His hands were unsteady with his own blade, red threatening to overtake his vision.

She slashed at it and caught fur, but it struck again and she yelped.

Ren pushed forward and—

Was held backwards by the Force. It was a sensitive.

 _Fuck, fucking, fuckity-fuck, fuck—_

With a howl, he ripped at the beast's tail, turning its attention towards him. Rey staggered to her feet in the corner of his vision and he continued to goad the beast, yanking its fur, pulling at its ears. It roared and he hissed back, blade screaming in his hands.

He was quick, quick as the sand as he darted under the creature, pulling his weapon through its abdomen, slicing cleanly through viscera and bone. He rolled from under before it collapsed, stabbing at limbs, the neck, the throat, frenzied and raging until arms caught around his waist and he stilled.

He could feel her fear through the light material of her shirt.

"Kylo, it's dead. It's fine, it's dead."

His chest heaved, his lungs on fire. Breathing was like sucking in embers.

"It hurt you."

Her face seemed to break with his words and she didn't release him from her grip. "I'm okay."

"Let me see."

He ushered her to sit on a small boulder as he inspected her arm and face. Huge gashes split her sleeve, but her cheek had only a singular nick. He brought his hands carefully to rest on her arm and channeled the Force to stitch her back together. His sternum ached to see her bloody and he bit his tongue. If he'd been a _moment_ quicker, a second faster, less shaken…

"I'm sorry," he said slowly, watching her skin come together between his palms. "I hesitated."

"You were remarkably quick to eviscerate that thing."

"And I frightened you."

"I'm _fine_ , Kylo."

His head snapped around. Another animal was lurking on the other side of the riverbank. Two pairs of yellow-green eyes stared up through dark foliage. A switch threw in his brain and he was on high alert, ripples of anger and dominance oozing across the Force at whatever godsforsaken creatures wanted their heads split next.

A growl slipped from his throat when two black-bodied canines slunk into the open. Vornskr, vicious pack hunters with huge jaws and a Force-laden appetite. Their ears ducked at the sight of him and they meandered slowly to the carcass of the tiger.

His attention returned to her. "Are you okay to leave?"

She nodded and he pulled her to her feet, a possessiveness growing thickly across his shoulders. He would gleefully pick off every single beast that threatened her health and safety. He'd do it with his bare hands if he had to.

Rey was wary of him as they continued down into the valley. Quiet and reserved, she did not so much as look at him until he prompted.

"You really don't seem fine."

"It's just…" she started, wringing her hands. "I forgot what you are for a moment and it startled me to be reminded. That's all."

"You forgot what I _am_?" What was he?

"It was startling to see you so vicious."

"Of _course_ I was vicious. I thought you were going to get seriously wounded, why wouldn't I be vicious? You're in danger and you expect me to what? _Negotiate_ with the animal that wants you for lunch?"

"No, I mean—"

"In no universe am I going to stand around while you're in danger. Your safety is important to me." It was paramount to him.

She nodded glumly, still off-put. "Thank you, then. I think."

He was about to argue further, to make her see _how_ important she was, when he caught sight of two black pelts following them at a respectable distance. Their ears perked when he noticed them.

"They don't feel aggressive," she said quietly.

"They eat anything that wields the Force."

"Even so, they don't _feel_ aggressive. I think the tiger was harassing them."

He nodded to the beasts and they waited trailing behind only when Rey and he continued their pace. "So now we do good deeds for all the predators of the forest?"

"Not _all_. You really mucked up that tiger's day."

He cracked a grin and she smiled beside him. "We do good deeds for the loyal breeds only, then."

The vornskr pair continued to follow them through the valley and up onto the hills, always staying a reasonable distance, their ears cocked and noses high. Rey offered them a strip of jerky at one point and they galloped over, making Ren incredibly uneasy. Large and powerful as they were, they were placated by food and his unstable Force signature. His connection made him food, but the suffocating power made him an alpha.

"They're honestly not going to hurt us," Rey said when they returned into the trees and the pair grew harder to spot.

"It still doesn't hurt to be cautious."

They were smart beasts. If it weren't for the barking, they would have missed the mural entirely.

The pair of canines had rushed to the stone wall that towered high into the canopy, decorated with ancient paints and carved figures. It drew Ren's breath heavily into his lungs and they finally felt close to what they were seeking.

"Did people ever used to live on this planet?"

"No." His eyes were so hungry to see this in detail. "It's too harsh for constant inhabitance. It was sacred, a place of pilgrimage to ancient cultures. This is evidence of their existence, something I feared we wouldn't find."

She rewarded the dogs with more meat and he groaned internally at the loss of food. It couldn't be helped, he supposed, seeing the animals had drawn their attention to something this important.

"Do you have to be so compassionate to every creature we find?"

"You're one to nag about compassion." Her smile was brilliant and teasing. Ren felt the hair on his neck prickle, as though she'd sliced thickly into his mind. He was not one to harp about compassion, not when his damning object stood so brightly before him. Quietly he loved that she was this warm to other living things. Nothing Snoke had inflicted upon her skin had diminished her light to the point of extinguishing. Beautiful, beautiful, sun-bright Rey.

Force, he loved her.

Force, he needed to bash his head in on several rocks.

Love, really?

No, he couldn't _love_ her, because she'd never love him back. She was _frightened_ of him, fearful of how much of a _monster_ he could be. Nothing he did would ever cleanse his sins, wash away his wrongs enough that something so pure should be allowed to touch him. At best he craved her smile.

He needed to stop wallowing in this self-pity. The mission came first. He could battle with his emotional conflicts when they were offworld.

"Are we supposed to go in?" she called, having left him behind in his own tiny depressing world.

"Go in?"

"Yeah, there's a passageway here. None of this 'one person stands outside to guard' banthashit either. You come with me or we both don't go."

He ducked beside her, looking down into the split rock face. The vornskr were at their heels, nudging their legs in the direction of the caves. "Do you think following them is a good idea?"

"If they wanted to eat us, they'd have done it already. Besides, I don't think—"

"If you're about to tell me _names_ of these things—"

"Only one. The girl is Meridian."

An Outer Rim sector, huh, strange name. "How do you know which one is which?"

She rubbed the ears of the bigger vornskr—she _pet_ it. Holy Sith Hells, this girl _pet a vornskr_. Did she have a death wish or was she simply a beast whisperer? "The female is larger in size, males are smaller. Look at this face, Kylo, could you call this a boy face?"

She's too enamored with these animals. "Do you want _me_ to name the other one?"

"If you want. Or I will, just need some time."

The male vornskr—Dal, he was going to call it Dal after the red giant, an appropriate namesake for the girl brighter than a sun—leapt down into the cave and whined, almost begging them to follow. This was it.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and they descended below the soil into a silent world untouched for millennia.

* * *

 **A/N:** He'll warm up to those dogs...eventually.

I'm about to be in the middle of midterms, so I'm hoping to update again next Sunday, but Friday is not in the cards. I have three exams and a paper all in the same two-day span. Wish me luck! And I hope you're all excited for the next part! Things are about to get _wild_.


	13. The Flood

13\. The Flood

It was cold as they descended, colder than she was expecting.

One of the vornskr—the one Kylo was supposed to name—kept racing excitedly between their legs, making it difficult to traverse the old ruins without the threat of falling. The darkness clung to the edges and curves in the walls and the space was silent, broken only by their sabers. Rey's hummed pleasantly in her hands while his crackled and hissed in front, the red of it casting ominous shadows all around them.

He turned to her when they came to an arch that ate up the wall, ascending into the heavens. His face was basked in red. "How are you doing?"

"If I'm honest? Frightened. Guts of ships were one thing, you could always see the way out. Here…it's like being caged."

"Do you want to go back up?"

"Isn't this what we're looking for?"

He bit his lip, the scarlet hues in his eyes singing from his blade. "It is, but you panicking won't be helpful."

"I'm not _panicking_."

"Not yet, but you could."

She frowned, holding her blade closer to her chest. Their weapons turned the walls orange. "I'm not going to panic. I don't want to have to split up is all."

His expression softened, his smile teasing. "Whatever you want, _princess_."

"I'm not _pampered!_ " she mock-hissed, following as he took off again, weaving deeper underground.

"I'd say I've done an excellent job at accidentally spoiling you as of late. Rey wants something, Rey gets something, just like a princess."

"And you're any better?"

"Never said I wasn't a spoiled brat. My mother _was_ royalty, you know."

She frowned, trying to picture him on a different path. A moody young man sat upon a dark-hued throne embedded with purple and red stones, his hands toying with a jeweled scepter. He had a great gold diadem circling his dark hair, his right hand decorated with rings and bracelets. On the left was a lone dark wedding band, which he twisted round his finger when he was frustrated. He looked bored with it all.

He would have been the sourest prince in dark furs and heavy leathers.

Married off at a young age, obviously. Betrothals were still popular, right? And he'd hate the girl, whomever she was. Nothing but a political union of a boy who only wanted to play knights and some poor princess who deserved better than a husband who could go from being a shaak to a wampa in seconds flat.

She wouldn't have been some poor princess. Maybe she'd have been a knight from a distant land, come to ride with the prince on his military conquests. They'd hate each other, him a wall and her stubborn as a mountain. But then he'd open up out of vulnerability, she'd pity him (because that's what she did, this knight-Rey, she pitied the poor man whose fate had been determined by his birth), and they'd relax. They'd become friends. Good friends.

But the prince killed the king and kissed the knight in a dream.

Reality came back to meet Rey when she missed a step and went fumbling down, her fall interrupted by Kylo's steady hands. His lightsaber clanged against the stone floor as he steadied her, careful not to get near her blade.

"Watch where you're going or you'll send us both down to Chaos."

Still caught in her daydream, words left her mouth without permission. "You'd really hate being a prince, wouldn't you?"

He pursed his lips, caught off guard. "Probably. Lot of diplomacy and I'm not one for civil debate, which I'm sure you've noticed. I would love nothing more than to discuss the droning joys of politics, but now isn't time for fairy stories."

Fairy stories. That's all they were, the daydreams. Tales left for children, the liminal point where reality didn't have to be reality, not quite. Willing her knees not to shake, she gathered her willpower and followed him into the earth, leaving behind the prince and the knight to sort out their own problems.

* * *

The lizards were the worst.

Maybe not _the_ worst, but they were pretty awful. Smelly, weird, a foot long, and needing to be transported on _strange tubes_ , Finn was none too happy about their new…pets, as Poe put it.

"They're not that bad."

Finn glared at Poe, the two inspecting the ysalamiri rig lining the ship's interior. Little orange lizards were scattered about the frame, looking curiously down as the crew bustled around the cargo hold.

"I can't—" Finn focused his energy on moving a crate, exaggerating his hand movements, "—do _anything_."

A voice boomed behind them. "And that's the point. You can't, they can't. It's the only efficient way to smuggle Force-sensitives."

Lando clapped the men on the shoulders, eyes alive but somehow still cautious. "Do you think you're ready for this?"

A rescue mission disguised as an information recovery—risky but essential. Finn was getting sicker with anticipation and worry with every passing second they were in the jump. He nodded, nervous but determined. "I'm not going to get any readier."

Lando flashed a smile. "I'll be easier than you think. We've got only the most capable aboard."

Uneasiness continued to roll as Finn twirled in his chair on the bridge. The ship wasn't big but it wasn't small either, with a crew of ten and enough room for a comfortable five more. If all went well, they'd only be adding one—Rey. This time, when he saw her, he would not panic or freeze. This time, he'd bring her home.

"I can hear your motivational monologue from here."

He whipped around. "I'm not saying anything out loud!"

"Yeah, but your face is a book," Poe teased, shuffling through the maps of the planet's surface. Even before departure, it was clear Lando had a lot more info on this place than he led Leia to believe. "Don't worry. We're going to do it right this time, we're prepared."

"Are we really? Are you ready to face Kylo Ren again?"

"I don't think that's a thing people are necessarily _ready_ to do, no matter the day of the week."

"Rey will be there with him. She'll be _there_ , under his influence or something. What if she runs again?"

"Finn, she's not going to _run_ —"

"She did last time."

Poe sighed at the topographic map in front of him. "If we can take him out first, there's no reason for her to run. Get her captor out of the way and she's free. Last time I didn't disable him quickly enough."

"I really hope these crazy lizards are enough to stop him."

"They should be."

* * *

The further they descended, the stronger everything began to feel. Not only his own fears and thoughts, but the Force too. It swept under his feet like an animal demanding attention, throwing feelings and images heavily against his ankles, his chest, his head. It quaked and growled and pawed for him to listen.

He was avoiding doing such for as long as he could, unsure of how much longer he could stabilize his walls. The Force bond he shared with Rey…it had been pulsing loudly ever since they'd passed through the main chambers. Bits and pieces of her thoughts had snuck through the cracks in the barrier, little shimmering things that were barely more than hints. She was excited but nervous. Frightened of him. Not like before, not in the sense that he'd hurt her (for he wouldn't _dare_ ), but it almost seemed to stem from their now-amicable relationship. What that would mean for her, for him.

If he were to glance back, he knew he'd catch her staring, her eyes yellow and feline in the light from her blade. Her eyes had barely left his shoulders since he'd taken the lead, could feel her gaze burning holes into his flesh.

Ren pressed his hand lightly to the tiles of an archway, the Force asking him to please line his fingers up like that, yes, it would open if he focused hard on the door and the silent song hanging in the air. Stones moved slowly aside and he smirked to himself, unwilling to show any sort of amazement.

He led her into a circular chamber and suddenly the walls were just projections of themselves. Visions twirled high upon the ceiling, dead-end futures and long forgotten pasts. The high stones embedded in the jagged outcrops glowed a fierce blue.

Rey sucked in a breath beside him, lightsaber disengaged at her side. "I've seen a place like this in a dream."

"You have?"

She nodded. "The Valley of Souls."

That place was a Force nexus, the final battlefield of a bloody and long war, where the thought bomb had decimated and imprisoned thousands for the rest of eternity. "But this isn't Ruusan," he said mostly to himself.

"Everything's connected through the Force."

That voice wasn't Rey's.

Ren turned around to find himself alone in a red landscape carved with faces of the dead. A Force ghost stepped from the hazy horizon, the first ever to grace him. It was a shock to know he wasn't dreaming and his feet faltered in the waking world.

The man was young but old, wise beyond his peers. And grey. His aura was so chokingly grey Ren struggled to breathe. "You, me, everything alive, everything dead."

"You speak as though you know me."

"In some ways I do, in others I don't. I know from whom you've come, I know what you've done. I can feel your emotions but not see your intentions."

"You speak like someone my uncle once knew."

The ghost smiled, his eyes sad. "Then I could not be more proud of my former padawan."

Kylo Ren did not have a name for this Force apparition, but he had a vague sense of knowing. If he'd paid attention to his studies all those years ago, perhaps the stranger's name wouldn't linger far off in the distance, taunting his forgetful mind.

"Is there a reason for this visitation?"

"Is there not always a reason for the will of the Force?" The man smiled, eyes pinpricks of starlight. "Follow it, give yourself up to its wishes. There is always hope."

* * *

Rey was swirled away from the chamber walls the moment the smoke had began to descend. She was spirited away to a land of molten fire, forced to listen to screams of pain, of hatred, and the wrenching sound of a breaking heart. Ripped from fire to ashes, her knees hit grassy ground below a wild starry sky. The universe was endless here, the heavens swallowing the horizon, billowing down and around the soil.

She reached to touch the stars and found herself in a chamber of black silk and soft white light. Her hands sat atop her thighs as she knelt before a tall throne. Fear rose in her throat at the sight.

"Don't be alarmed," said the girl with the pike in her hands. "I am no longer part of any future."

Twelve years old and wiser than the ages, Rey's chest ached at her words. The girl's grey eyes captured energy like magnets, her gaze flicking across Rey's face with a pulsing fierceness.

"Keep calm and perhaps one day you will sit here instead of me."

Pulled off again, Rey was deposited in an enormous circular hall, every breath echoing off its towering walls. The light was cold, matching the air, matching the stones beneath her bare feet. Three figures stood in the middle of the chamber and she slowly, cautiously, approached.

They were all the same.

Well, all three were different, but the same.

To the far left was the monster that bled her out in the snow, his black irises rimmed crimson and his teeth sharp. Wild energy lashed like whips from his ankles, his fury heavy on her skin. She watched his hands curl into talons as he gazed upon her with thick hatred.

Opposing him on the far right was a man she did not recognize. His eyes, in contrast, were a sweet honey brown, his hair careful and waved. He had rough hands and a rusted smile from years of disuse. Dressed in bloodstrips and scuffed boots, she couldn't make out the emotion on his face.

And in the center…between the poles was the median, weaved together with thread from both. Hard eyes and a genuine smile, he had begun to walk on the edges of the two extremes, no longer fully dark but not light. He smirked at her with a sharpness in his eyes, his arms folded across his chest.

She reached to him and the room fell away.

Kylo's arms were out to steady her from a fall she didn't remember taking. His eyes were wide and fearful—one of the first genuine expressions of fright he'd ever shown her. "We have to get going."

"What did you see?"

He bit his lip, turning away. "It doesn't matter, we're running low on time."

The bark in the distance drew her attention from him, head swiveling to the sound. "I thought you said we had at least two more weeks."

"Not like that. We need to _go_."

As he rushed, she followed, their footsteps echoing in the hallowed spaces. Another bark; this one more panicked. Her legs sped on their on volition. Was there something coming after them? Had they disturbed some ancient creature with their presence? She didn't know much about old religions but could only imagine the horrors that came in their wake.

"We're going to have company," Kylo said when they stopped before another stairwell. "The Resistance knows we're here looking for something to turn tides."

"I thought this place was unmapped?"

"Someone has friends in high places. We have to hurry."

The stairs met her two at a time, legs rushing as lungs grew exhausted. She could only run for so much longer; only descend so many more steps before returning to the surface would be an impossible feat. Oh, gods, she hoped they were close.

It took another ten minutes of scrambling to land in the correct chamber. It was hard to miss, the great humming contraption in the center of the room. Bits on it shone purple and it purred steady waves in the air. Kylo approached it, motioning for her to stay back. He hadn't a clue what he was doing and nor did she.

The surveillance system whirled to life the second his hands made contact. Stones shifted, lights flickered on, and howl of pain like no other was drawn from her companion's throat.

Images and coordinates crackled like static in the Force around her, imprinting onto her mind. Locations, actions, blood, war, loss, creation, rebirth—everything that happened in the past several eons was broadcast from the depths of the ancient machine. The most important of all, whatever he was channeling, turned yellow when she absorbed them into her thoughts, memorizing the details, holding them close.

And then it was over.

Kylo fell back, chest heaving. Blood trickled from one of his eyes and down his nose, staining his lips and chin. He looked up and she had to hold back the gasp forming at the sight of his face. The injured eye was blood red and clouded, the other yellow and slit. His scar stood out as a dark mulberry against pearl-white skin. "Did you…" He coughed, his voice ragged. "Did you get all that?"

She nodded once. Yes, she'd recovered everything from his sacrifice.

A boom from above was punctuated with two warning howls.

Kylo grimaced. "Good, because they've found us."

* * *

Weakness. That's all he felt—weakness. Unlocking the barrier on the machine had taken more energy than he'd intended to waste, especially with the enemy on the approach. She was giving him a horrified look that could only mean the weakness was showing on his face as well. He couldn't be sure of what it was—if he were bleeding or not—but it wasn't _good_. He was in trouble and there was no way he could protect them both now.

"We should keep moving."

"Can you even stand up?"

It was a challenge but the answer was yes, he could. His knees were screaming at him, but he'd dealt with worse. He could do this. "There should be some back entrance to this place, they wouldn't have been stupid enough to only have one escape route."

She nodded, hands shaking as she pulled her lightsaber out of its holder. "Should I go first, or—"

Another boom.

He followed her soundlessly as they rushed from the room. He'd seen all Snoke wanted in those split seconds and that coupled with more exertion made him feel violently ill. It was…repulsive, the future his master was cutting out of tattered cloth. He didn't want to comply this once, did not want to assist in this horror show that would no doubt culminate into a vicious head. He wished she hadn't caught sight of the plans.

Shouts were in the distance now, voices echoing down. How had they gotten through so quickly? Especially when he and Rey had been down here for hours trying to locate the machine. Did they have a navigator with them? Someone who'd been on this planet before?

Impossible, Giaca had been untouched for centuries.

"We're going to make it out, right?" she asked when they rounded another dead end. "I don't want…I don't want to be buried in here."

"You won't get buried. They want you back, remember? And I'm not good to them dead."

They continued on but the shouts were getting so much closer, so much harder to ignore or avoid. There was no way they'd be able to sneak off if they were cornered. An idea came to mind; something that would…that would let her get away. She'd get away safely and he could disappear when it was no longer dangerous to emerge. She could be safe.

"Rey."

He tugged on her wrist and she turned to him, pupils blown up in the darkness of the underground. She was panicked, equally panicked as he.

And she was…perfect, in that short, disastrous moment. He…no, this is how it had to be. This is how he could do something right with himself for once. For someone else.

He let his eyes fall across her face before closing the distance between them in a fierce rush. They were so pressed for time. He was so pressed by his crushing humanity, pulling her towards him with no gentleness, only fear. Fear he could taste on her lips in the salt of sweat and the iron of his own blood.

The floodgates opened.

He broke down his walls, letting everything wash over her in a powerful tide. His fear, his inadequacy, his miserable feelings for her, whatever they could be called, they surged like waves through the Force and rammed hard into her.

Rey's legs faltered and he held her upright in a bruising grip, his fingers digging like claws into her arms. He'd devour her soul if he could.

It was he who pulled back, her having turned to stone when he spoke her name. She looked up at him without seeing, without breathing. "I…" He started but his voice lost the words. He couldn't let them hang in the air, not now. Besides, he was split open before her, cracked down the center like a glistening geode. "I'm letting you go. Find your friends. Please, be safe."

When she didn't move, he pushed her back from where they'd come. "Go, Rey, before I change my mind."

He slumped partially against the wall when the echo of her footfalls disappeared into the blackness ahead. Their bond open and raw, he could feel her emotions rush to meet her as she ascended to where she belonged, among people who would care for her the right way. He hadn't a clue how long he stayed there in the darkness. Long enough that the female vornskr had attached itself to his ankles, refusing to leave his side.

"She's the one with the food," he said softly, watching the animal's yellow eyes scan his hands. "I'm no use to you."

But it was use to him. The deep growls were the only warning he got before light screamed from both sides of the narrow passageway. He lashed out with the Force to stop the approach only to find himself…powerless. In a vacuum of insecurity. Poe Dameron's solemn face was the last thing he saw before he got knocked out.

* * *

"I cannot fucking _believe_ you," Finn growled, aiming his lightsaber at the barking monstrosity. "Why are we taking this thing along?"

Poe rolled his eyes. "Because it tried to rip my hand off when we went to separate them."

"And I'm not allowed to kill it because?"

"Look, if we're taking _him_ with us, I'd prefer not to coax his temper in any way, and I don't know about you, but I think killing the pet dog is a _great_ way to get on his bad side."

"He's nuts; we're already on his bad side." The ysalamir on Finn's shoulders made a squawking noise when the…dog-thing approached again. "It's scaring your stupid lizards."

"Stop complaining and just _help_ , okay?"

They had made a most unfortunate trade. Finn had zero doubt the General was going to hate what they'd done, but it was the better of the two options presented. An unconscious Kylo Ren was being dragged back to D'Qar, Force abilities stifled and lightsaber safely on Finn's belt. They hadn't found the radar machine, but they'd captured the demon in black. For a price, but one that he hoped was worth paying.

Finn had still lost in the end.

"What do we do when he wakes up?"

Poe shrugged. "He'll be in the hold so it won't matter until we land."

"I hope this doesn't sour."

* * *

Rey tried in vein to steady her shaking fingers. She'd stolen a ground speeder and had made it back to the ship without being followed, as she'd been promised, but she still felt sick to her stomach. The vornskr had insisted on accompanying her and its tail was wagging back and forth, whacking into the base of her chair. The repetitive noise was only making this wall worse.

She waited until she was in hyperspace to make the call.

"General Hux."

The man's frown never ceased to amaze her, how one expression could be so contemptuous. "Reporting alone?"

"We were ambushed. Kylo Ren has been captured by the Resistance."

The general's eyes widened a moment before his face settled back into its natural look of disgust. He waited for her to continue.

"We successfully retrieved the data requested by Supreme Leader Snoke. I have them with me. There was nothing I could have done to prevent his capture and decided the attempt to fight back would end in both of us being taken prisoner."

"And you?"

"I have left Giaca's orbit untracked. Estimate arrival in six hours."

"I will leave it to _you_ to tell the Supreme Leader what has happened."

Rey nodded, head heavy. "Understood."

The transmission flickered off and she leaned back with a sigh. It felt weird lying to Hux. It felt weird doing this alone. Being here alone, after having a shot at escape. But she could survive—that's what she'd always done, and this was better for him. She kept telling herself this is what _he_ needed. She was helping.

She was helping until they were face to face in a dream.

Their bond reconnected, she knew it was fully him, not a ghost of his memory. No, this was Kylo, more furious than the sun.

"What the _kriff_ was that?!" His teeth were bared, his eyes wild and red. "I told you to _go_ , not to throw me to the _hounds_."

"I'm not throwing you to the hounds, I'm helping—"

"No, you're not. You're doing that thing again, where you think you're _saving_ me, or some ridiculous drivel." He growled, raking a hand through dark hair. "Now I'm on course to deal with my _mother_ and you're unprotected against Snoke. Tell me, Rey, did you think this out first, or did you just act?"

"I can handle myself!"

"Not on him, not like this. I've tried so _hard_ to keep you out of his full influence and you've gone and thrown all my work back at me."

"How was I supposed to act rationally, or think that far ahead, when you, you…" her voice was cracking. She could feel her throat tightening with each syllable. "You kissed me. Why did you do that?"

His anger drained and he sighed low, shoulders relaxing. "Because it was the only chance I'd ever get. Because you were supposed to return to where you belong, stay on the light side of the conflict where you wouldn't burn my skin anymore."

"But _why_ —"

"Why do you think people kiss? Were you paying any attention when I…when I opened this again?"

She was. She wished she hadn't, but she did. She felt it all in one messy blow. "You shouldn't have done that, though."

His laugh cut her ears, its sound sharp and remorseful. "No, I shouldn't have. I know that better than you."

When she was quiet, he spoke again. "I have to figure this out for myself. You can't save me; only I can do that."

"I'm sorry."

"I am too."

Rey sat down heavily when he vanished from the dream. Oh, she was sorry, but for nothing he needed to know. Sorry for betraying him, sorry for freezing at his touch. Sorry now that she'd pruned a branch before it could flower. With him gone, a hole in her chest began to crumble open and the loneliness crept in. Sorry that she'd heard a terrifying set of words from his side of the bond and had been caught too off guard to respond.

* * *

 **A/N:** Screams into the void because I am so overwhelmed with real life


	14. Dark Blossoms

14\. Dark Blossoms

It was curiosity that encouraged Poe to sit in the hold, watching the monster sleep. But, in all honesty, he wasn't sure he was looking at a monster. It was…strange, something he hoped he wouldn't have to explain to Finn or Leia (for they would be the first to ask). He had every intention to slip away before Kylo Ren woke, but his plans were interrupted.

"Do you know what you've done?" rumbled the cross beast from his prison.

"We've finally captured you."

"No, I mean to her. Do you know what you've _done?_ "

"We let her do what she wanted. She asked us to take you in place of her and let her sabotage whatever plan Snoke was concocting."

Kylo Ren heaved an enormous sigh. "Stupid girl. She's going to get herself _killed_ thanks to you not forcing her to stay."

"And she'd have been better off with you?"

" _Yes!_ " It came out too powerfully and Poe watched as Kylo Ren's face curled into anguish, realizing the mistake of his outburst. "I've been protecting her; I don't want her harmed either."

"For your own gain?"

"For her own sake." He reached out to stroke the neck of the vornskr beside him. "Monsters can have feelings too."

Poe crouched down, starting to put jagged pieces back together. "You've changed, Ben."

Kylo Ren didn't growl or lash at the name, opting to sigh wearily. "I've been influenced."

"You let her go."

"She was never mine."

His black mood was crushing even without reinforcement through the Force. Poe rose, not wanting to be choked out by the thick misery.

"If you…" Kylo Ren's words were meek, his voice small. The contrast to his usual demeanor was unsettling. "If you have any say, bring her back. She's not going to survive alone and you need her." A pause. A long breath. "She's more important to the galaxy than you know."

Poe needed to leave the hold before any more pity crept up his spine. It was bizarre—beyond bizarre—to see the man who tried to kill him a month prior dissolved into a puddle of fear and worry, sick with grief for someone else. He had to clear his head.

"You look like you've gone into shock," Finn said when Poe lowered himself into the pilot's chair, head in his hands.

"I don't know who that is."

"Are you—it's Kylo Ren. You know, scary, evil, always wears black."

"He's not the man who tortured me, and he's not my childhood best friend. Finn, I do not know that man."

Finn sucked in a breath, busying his hands to ease the discomfort. "Just don't tell the General that's what you think, yeah?"

He could make no promises.

* * *

Somewhere, out in that strange sandy field, the plant had spread itself high to the star line.

Ren had been careful about touching it, how much water it got, how many hours of sunlight could grace its delicate face. But something had gone wrong somewhere down the line. He hadn't paid attention, perhaps, or he'd given it too much care. Its face looked nothing like how he'd pictured it, no mosaic of pinks and whites, no speckles and dots of color. It was dark, dark as charred wood. Such a dark red it was almost black. It was beautiful, certainly, but something had gone wrong.

His stomach lurched, horrified with the outcome. He never wished anything so sinister to befall her.

When he turned away from its sickening beauty, it bled rosy, its face crying to the moon.

He hurried off to another section of dreams.

They sat across from each other in a dark space. Well, not dark—they were clearly lit, their faces and bodies bathed in light—but it was black all around, from the floor to the ceiling to the realm beyond. Like nothingness.

Rey had her knees curled to her chest, arms wrapped steadily around. He was spread out and disinclined to gaze up on her.

"What's his name?"

"Whose name?"

"The vornskr keeping me company. You have Meridian with you."

He did. He had the girl beast—she was asleep at his side somewhere in the waking world away from this dream. The animal had fought harshly to be kept with him; he'd been alerted to that by the reluctant thought fragments that trickled soundlessly from the crewmembers. Not from Dameron, though—he hadn't been bothered by the creature. He'd defended Rey's newest morality pet.

"It's okay if you didn't name him," she said after a long pause.

"Dal."

"Pardon?"

He looked up, finally, into her face, memorizing the look of fear and regret in her eyes. She missed him, she was nervous for him—she wasn't sure she'd be coming back alive.

"Dal, after a red giant in the Mid Rim. A name fit to reflect the brightness of a foolish girl's brilliant smile."

She hid her face too slowly for him to miss the blush on her cheeks. "I think they're mates, Kylo. I think we separated them."

"Perhaps they thought we were like them."

"Aren't we, though, in a way?"

"I don't think so, not after this stunt you're pulling." Dammit. He needed to curb his anger around her before he hurt her in a permanent way.

"Oh." She shifted slowly, running a hand through her loose hair. "I think I want to try kissing you again, though."

"You…" Did she mean that? _Could_ she mean that? "You _want_ to kiss me?"

"I _might_. I don't know."

"We could…if you wanted to try in a dream…it wouldn't be impossible to…"

He lost his train of thought when she moved closer, lost his idea of self when she traced across his cheekbone with a thumb. She looked unsure of herself but she pressed onward, fingers following backwards into his hair and he rose on his own accord to meet her midway. Chaste, simple, soft, little more than a fluttering touch. He parted to breathe against her forehead, knowing a second longer would awaken the hungry beast he'd been taming at night with his guilt-ridden hands.

"I don't think you're a monster," she admitted mostly to herself as she began to wake, "not anymore."

"You've changed me," he said softly to dead air. Her heat lingered on his cheeks when he stirred into the world.

* * *

Lando's ship landed on time in the airfield outside the D'Qar base. The crew greeting them was as small as possible—Leia had been given word about the rescue situation. She and Luke had thought it best as few people as possible learned of the vessel's more precious cargo.

Her heart hammered thoroughly against her ribs, blood rushing at a dizzying rate. She was iron willed when it came to everything, but not…this. She couldn't know what to expect, how to act. It had been thirteen years since Luke had last seen her son, fifteen since he'd been home. There was no way to prepare.

He was not cloaked in black, nor was he masked. The man towering over Finn and Poe on the gangway was an inky, haughtier version of Han. His clothes were slim cut—not that it mattered, as the boy was so _broad_ in the chest, Force, when had he grown into a man?—and his hair was wild and matted. Dark eyes betrayed his nervousness and she watches his emotions flicker like a play across his face.

Oh, and that scar.

It ripped across her son's face, red-violet and angry. A burn from a lightsaber—a mark Rey must have branded into his skin. It split him in half, but somehow did not make him seem darker, only more sullen—pitiful, in a way.

Their eyes met fully and for a split second she thought he was on the verge of tears.

They led him close enough to her that he seemed real; this all seemed real. She hardly noticed the lizard shifting about on her shoulders. It hissed when a coal-coated mutt snapped its jaws in a warning, taking easily and readily to his side.

She took a deep breath.

"Hello, Ben."

"Your _hooligans_ have sentenced her to death."

"My _hooligans_." Leia turned to the party holding the bull by his nose. "You can leave us, boys."

Finn recoiled while Poe's face grew concerned. "He's dangerous, General."

"I can handle my own son."

She waited for the snide remark out of his mouth, the vicious quip about Han, but it never came. Instead, her boy glared down at his feet, preoccupied with his bootlaces.

When the company disbanded, she sighed. "You haven't shown concern for another person since—"

"Since when? Since you last saw me? For fifteen years, you think I haven't given a damn about another human being?"

"Not really, no."

He scowled, teeth curling from his lips. Then, surprisingly, his expression softened. "You're right, then. It's been a long, long time."

It was the way his head moved, the slight shift in his eyes that gave him away. There were quirks left over from her happy little boy, silent expressions of guilt and fear he'd done his best to hide as a child. Not well enough because here he was, nearly twenty-nine, making silent admissions to his mother through the lack of expression.

"You do, don't know?"

Cryptic for any other family, crystal clear for theirs.

"Say it," he murmured. "Tell me I'm too much of a monster to. Out loud. Say what we're both thinking. I don't deserve to even look at her."

His Force signature was strong. Choking even with the ysalamir wrapped around her neck. And it was… _wallowing_. So much pent-up hatred licked around him, but it wasn't for her, or for the Resistance. Not even for Poe as he looked warily on from several hundred meters away. He was injured in a way that wasn't physical, bleeding in places other than his skin. She'd come to the landing pad with hellfire in her lungs ready to scream at the monstrous shell of her son, but it had vanished, run off somewhere she couldn't follow. The monster was hidden deep, the outside almost soft.

"What happened, when you kept that girl for all these months?"

"I don't know. Nothing seems real anymore." He sighed and reached down to the beast whose head came easily to his waist. "Dad says hi."

Leia faltered. He hadn't called Han his father since…

"He's come to speak to me in a dream or two. Most of them have." Her son looked up, his eyes wet. His whole body was betraying his stony persona.

"I can't forgive the sins you've committed."

"I can't forgive myself either. I'm not asking you to."

"Then what do you want?" It came out harsher than she wanted but it was still too soft. It was difficult, being a parent.

"I want her safe. I don't care what you do with me. Torture me, try me, kill me—whatever you see fit, as long as she survives."

She looked him over, this broken boy parading around with her son's face. He wasn't the creature in the mask, she hoped, not anymore. If he'd said anything else, she would have taken his sincerity as false, but this was selfless. He had nothing to gain and everything to lose.

"I think there's still hope for you."

"Don't speak too quickly; she's been the only thing keeping me in check."

• • •

They locked him in a room of lizards for the time being. _A precaution_ , Leia said as they shut the door on her son, his eyes wide with curiosity and hurt. They couldn't get the vornskr to leave him and since no one wanted to sacrifice a hand, they were going to have to let the beast stay.

 _Meridian_ , he'd said softly, _wait outside. No biting_.

And it had obeyed, much to Leia's surprise.

"All right, we've made a huge tactical risk," she started when the company had gathered in a small conference room, "now what do we do?"

"Keep him locked up." Finn's eyes were hard, his expression dark. "I've seen the… _things_ he's thinking. Letting him out is inviting a mistake."

She caught Poe's eyes narrow, but he didn't speak.

"Has anyone seen his face?" Luke's hands were folded in front of him. "He'll be a bigger target if he's recognized, but he hasn't gone without that mask in years."

"I don't think so. No one outside of this room knows who we brought back."

"And the ysalamiri will keep him from lashing as long as he's in their presence. How did he seem when you spoke to him?"

"Tired." Leia sighed, chin in her hands. "Different. Not what I was expecting. Poe, you're either going to speak up now or I'm going to drag it out of you."

The pilot flinched. "I don't think he's going to try to sabotage us."

Eyes turned pointed stares in his direction.

"You've seen him, General. He's not bellicose."

"But he's not placated either."

"He's angry, I think. Unhappy. Defeated. But not bloodthirsty."

"That scar is going to raise questions, and his height." She straightened up. "He even _looks_ like Han."

Poe nodded. "I want to talk to him."

* * *

The _Finalizer_ felt hollow when her boots hit the metal of the hanger floor. It was strange to be here alone, to have them trust her. Rey changed before she landed and now her strides mimicked Kylo's, a thick black cloak flitting against the backs of her calves. She gave Phasma a steely glare before plowing forward, her business with the asshole general at the hanger doors.

"You weren't kidding," Hux said through gritted teeth.

"Why would I joke about that?" Her steps clicked angrily next to his. "Is the Supreme Leader aware of my arrival?"

"Yes."

She nodded once. "Good."

A black envelope had fallen around her shoulders. The presence of the Dark side was thick and stifling, heavier than she'd ever felt it before. They let her walk freely through the ship, troopers moving out of her way as she passed. She may not have had a physical mask, but her face had turned to stone after she'd woken up. Now was no time for fretting, no time for feelings.

She knelt in the chamber, waiting for the holo to flicker on before rising from her knees. Darkness asked entry to her body and she permitted its nestling into her bones.

"You've lost my apprentice," Snoke said slowly.

"He dropped his guard, there was little to be done without also being captured or killed."

His eyes followed her. "And were you successful in your collection?"

"Yes." She breathed in the fumes of a poisonous choice. "I have the information you seek."

Snoke was thoughtful a moment before steepling his hands. "The boy was growing careless. I believe you are more promising than he could have ever been."

"I'm flattered, Supreme Leader."

Oh, her head was _rolling_. He wasn't kidding—Kylo had been preventing a _lot_ of fallout from dragging on her consciousness. Why, though? This power was so _enticing_. It crept down her fingers, settled into her soles.

"Are you prepared to carry on in his place?"

"Yes."

• • •

Meditation was long, boring, and drawn-out. Light tried to pick its way into her bubble and she hissed, fending it off. Not now, not today. She was pleased with the direction she was going, it could shut up and stop harassing her for one Force-forsaken day, couldn't it?

She was swimming in darkness, but she wouldn't consider it a hell. It was cool in a pleasant way, aiding her thoughts and questioning ideas. Some things grew clear—like her objectives, what she had to do now that she was back—and others were cloudy—like Kylo, like Finn, like the Resistance.

Kylo Ren, fallen knight extraordinaire. An ever flip-flopping indecisive thorn in the side of whomever he decided to aid that week. The thought of his name grated against her brain.

 _A few hours ago you were humming a different tune_ , a sullen voice reminds her. A few hours ago, she was another person. A few hours ago, life wasn't clear.

A few hours ago, she wanted to touch him.

Something broke inside.

Rey rested her head against the leg of her bed. This was all happening too quickly. She hadn't known a thing about how he felt over the bond, and the next she was drowning in his emotions. He was afraid, genuinely afraid, both for her and himself. He was nervous but angry the way a wounded animal was when cornered. He was concerned with her safety, with making sure she got out okay, alive, back to people who would take care of her if he couldn't. He didn't give a shit about this apprentice thing, not anymore, not if she were at risk. And he cared about her—deeply, fully—in a way that was making him break. He'd come so close to stumbling out three words he never wanted her to know, but he caught himself.

And all she did was spit in his face and pry his fingers from the ledge.

He was healing so nicely and she reopened the wound.

The Force came to take her and she was drifting into a dream, her back against the walls of a cold stone cave. The star-eyed child sat in her lap, cowering from the winds wailing outside. She stroked his hair, feeling the galaxy run through her fingers.

"I'm sorry I keep hurting you," she said softly into his curls.

"It's okay. Everyone always has."

Oh, no, no, sweet child. No, that didn't make it okay.

"No. I promise to stop." She meant it.

"You don't need to be nice to me."

She hugged him tighter and cried.

* * *

Ren expected to see his uncle at the door, not Poe.

He stood with the entrance, not sure if he should be preparing himself for a blow to the face, or a yelling match, or, or something belligerent. Poe had been easy before, but there was no telling what had been discussed regarding him, no clue as to what they intended to do.

 _It doesn't matter_ , he reminded himself, _as long as she'll be okay_.

"I'm not Force sensitive," Poe said by way of greeting, "but I can tell something's up. I want to know who you are."

"I am Kylo Ren, master of the Knights of Ren, commanded by the Supreme Leader of the First Order—"

"Wrong." Poe folded his arms over his chest. "Try again."

Ren rolled his eyes. " _Fine_. Ben Solo, heir of the Skywalker line, worst pupil the galaxy's ever seen."

"Also wrong."

His temper twitched. "I'm _sorry_ , but that's all I've got." He wasn't hiding any extra aliases up his sleeves.

"What I think," Poe started, pacing forward. The lizard on his shoulder shuffled to speak to its comrades on the room's nutrient frame. "What I think, is that you're neither. You put up no fight when you woke up."

"What did you want me to do, swing the lightsaber you took from my belt?"

"I expected you to attack with words, do something to agitate me into letting my guard down. Instead you berated me about _Rey_."

…Was he really being _this_ obvious? Stupid, stupid, what the _fuck_. _Get a hold of your emotions, boy_.

"You went straight to thinking about someone else, not to escaping. I watched you talk with Leia. There was no aggression in your stance; there was nothing but pain. I feel I have to ask, then. Who are you?"

"An idiot."

"That's a given."

Ren glared bullets at Poe's smirk.

"I don't know what they want to do, I left before they even started to make a decision. I don't think you'll give up information on the First Order—"

"Probably not."

"I don't think you're going to try to escape."

"And why is that?"

"You need our help, and you can't go back to your master for it. You need to do something he won't allow."

He knew his face was showing something akin to gratitude and he made no effort to rein it in. "I _tortured_ you, not even four months ago."

Poe grimaced—the pain of that interaction hadn't faded. But he had a good heart—always had—and some sort of altruism shone through. "We're at war. You were my best friend for eight years."

Ren snorted. "I was the reason we were always in trouble for eight years."

"I couldn't have asked for a more thrilling childhood." His smile and the nostalgia faded. "They're going to want proof, though, that you're changing. My word isn't good enough. So, are you?"

Ren looked up into his face. He searched his eyes for some form of trickery that never manifested. If Poe could fight for him, perhaps he could fight for himself, whoever he was becoming. He swallowed thickly. He hoped he wouldn't regret these words. "If he hurts her—and he will, I know that—then I have no loyalties to Snoke."

* * *

Rey wandered through her dreams like a ghost upon the surface of a lake. It was cold where she was, and dark, so unbearably dark. After the boy had vanished, the world had gone silent and so she wandered. It was strange, sifting through memories, through feelings.

From up above, she could watch how it had happened. It started after she was brought aboard the _Finalizer_ the second time, not before. When he's placed his hands to her broken body and made her whole again, the hatred had begun to crack away. It continued on, to how he'd protected her, embarrassed her; how he'd been genuine all the times she thought he was hiding behind a façade. The monster had been changing since before her day one. The monster was practically gone when they had visited the ice planet. She didn't know, then, how he'd held her, how the mere tickle of her skin had caused him to break down.

These were his memories as well, far more infused with emotion than her own. She didn't catalogue events the way he did, and she was grateful for his comments on them, the little imprints he'd made. She watched him crumble alone in the conference room when reality caught up to him, how he'd sighed and accepted his feelings.

 _He's breaking because of me_ , she thought heavily. The kiss came to view, the one he'd given desperately in the darkness of the underground. Oh, she hadn't known how much it affected him, couldn't have known. There was such selflessness in the one action that stole everything from her.

She hadn't a clue how it was making her feel.

Did she…reciprocate? She'd kissed him in a dream, sure, but was that due to her own wants or his influence? What were her own wants? What good could possibly come from feeling the same? Now it was she who was training in darkness, not him, and there was no room for attachments of that kind. She didn't need him.

Did she?

His presence entered the dreamscape like a heavy stone, dragging at her heart. She glanced up to see a man who was distinctly not Kylo Ren, but somehow, still one she knew. His eyes were a faded brown, rimmed red, cheeks blotchy. Had he been crying?

 _Could_ he cry?

Her hand reached out on its own to take his against her side, curling her fingers around his. The gesture froze him in space. "I didn't know." Her voice was scratchy and hoarse, as if disused. "I didn't know how much…what you felt. I _should_ have known."

"I kept it from you." Oh, kriff, yes, he'd been crying. There was a thickness in his voice he couldn't hide. "What good would it have done had you known?"

"I wouldn't have left."

"Yes you would. You'd have thrown me to Poe on Condular."

" _You_ didn't know on Condular."

"My subconscious did, somewhere I refused to look. And your savior complex would have tossed me to where you thought I'd be lifted to grace."

"I do _not_ have a—"

He gave her a fierce look.

She bowed her head. "Seeing Finn in the snow, having to leave him there when you abducted me, it really fucked me up. He was so helpless and I couldn't _do_ anything. But you, you were hurting and I _could_."

"Now I'm hurting worse."

"Please, don't. I can't fix you; I'm coming to realize that. But that doesn't mean you can't fix yourself like you said."

His fingers clamped against hers like iron. "I feel untethered without you. There's light all around but I can't latch on, there's no one consistent beacon."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not all that light anymore."

"He's poisoning you again."

"I'll be okay, I think. I'll handle myself."

"Be careful, for me. I don't know what I'll do if something happens to you."

"Burn something down, maybe. Crash a Star Destroyer."

"Put Hux's head through a door."

She laughed, leaning into him. "I'll do that myself."

He turned her around so she was flush against him. It was like bathing in fire to be so close, to touch him even in sleep. She robbed them of this in the waking world, robbed both him and herself of comfort, security. One of his hands lay so gently on the small of her back and her nerves shot off through her spine.

"The first dream we shard, the one in the sunlit morning. I…I'd like that future, with you. If we both come out of this alive, would you…"

"I think so." She tipped her head up to look in his eyes. They were stars, blinding and wonderful, just out of reach. "I have to sort myself out first."

And she rose on her toes to kiss him, to feel him alive against her lips. His gentleness broke and his hands moved swiftly to her jaw, anchoring them together. He kissed so hard, so fiercely, she thought she was being ripped apart. Lips turned to teeth. She'd never been kissed like this, had only ever known his mouth and now he was bruising her, branding her with his touch. He poured his need into her and it was overwhelming, feeling him against her skin, against her thoughts in their bond. She was drowning again in the ferociousness of him.

He pulled away only to press his forehead to hers, his breath sharp and labored. A tear trickled down his cheek and she stopped it with her thumb. He was so different now, humbled but hurt. And those three words, she'd seen them fuzzily again, never knowing what they said. She held him there; let him support himself until the emotion rolled away enough for him to speak.

"Come back to me in one piece," he said quietly. "I need you with me."

"I know." She smoothed down his wild hair. It was so soft. "But I can't make promises."

"How ridiculous this is, that we've changed into each other's shoes."

He brushed back her hair, fingers lingering on her neck before he left her in the darkness of their shared memories.

* * *

 **A/N:** fuck it, have a Saturday update scattered with pain and longing.


	15. A Favor

15\. A Favor

Somewhere, up above in the realm of the dead, Han Solo pushed a mountain of betting chips at Obi-Wan Kenobi, a massive scowl across his face.

* * *

If there was one thing he did not want to do, it was to remember the last two weeks.

Ren had spent three days cooped up in some ridiculous room covered in lizards, away from all contact with the Force, all contact with other humans, all contact with anything that wasn't orange, scaly, and a little smelly. It took them three days to decide not to prosecute him right then and there. Three days to decide he wasn't going to murder them all in their beds. Three days to realize he was broken, tired, and just wanted to sleep.

That was the only way he found her—through sleep.

And he was losing her.

Maybe it would have been good to drive all of his thoughts into the past two weeks, but he was too preoccupied to notice the blur changing his world. They started making decisions for him—he was compliant, having never made choices for himself before. He was hovered over wherever he went, one of those blasted lizards always on his shoulders. He was guarded by two men—usually tall, frequently broad and brawny—and escorted everywhere, the upper command not trusting him. They were correct not to, but he was too… _tired_ to act out. There was no point now. Negative outcomes surrounded him like humid air, thick and choking.

Luke avoided him the most. That was fine with him; he didn't need reminders of his past looming like disappointed shadows. He couldn't beg Leia for forgiveness—it was asking too much. He couldn't _dream_ of asking Luke—he'd get it, he knew he would, and the crippling weight of all the years of guilt and bloodshed would crack his fragile exterior and he would disintegrate into dust.

He was predictably feeling sorry for himself when Poe showed up, another silly lizard on his shoulder. As if the tiny fresher-sized bedroom they shoved him in wasn't already crawling with lizards. "You should train with Finn."

He raises an eyebrow. "Does my mother know you're proposing this?"

"No, but I figure she doesn't need to. You've been docile. You're not going to suddenly lash out and go on a rampage, are you?"

He shuddered with the memory of his tantrums. They seem pointless now, if only for his ever-fouling mood. For some unknown reason his anger had stopped being hot, instead turning him to ice, making him exhausted. "I see no need."

Poe bit his lip. Ren could feel the slight jump of fear, a reaction to a time long past. It faded into worry. "How is she?"

"It's not good."

Poe knew. Poe could read it clear on his face, the moment he opened his stupid mouth. He'd also been the one to greet Rey's face as she left him at the Resistance's mercy. It was the first time they'd known each other's names, but he was perceptive and saw something in Rey's eyes, the change in her stance. He put two together and came away a rich man.

"Yeah?" He sat down beside Ren's crouched frame. "What's happening?"

"You're too quick to trust."

He folded his hands, staring down at his lap as the little scaly beasts came to sniff the new human. "It's actually pretty weird, how this is happening. It's like you've never left, almost, but you have. You _look_ like the best friend I grew up with, but you're not him, not quite. I see you and I _want_ to believe you never changed, never grew into what you are. It's easier when you don't have the mask, but it's also worse."

"You know I'm not that boy."

"And I know you're not that monster either. Luke's told a lot of stories about his dad—"

Ren cringed at the thought. Vader. Anakin. The Skywalker patriarch.

"About how he snapped out of it at the end, completely changed for his son. If one of the worst murderers in recent history can come about, so can you."

"He had my uncle though. Whom do I have?"

"The General. Luke. Han, I guess, if the dead still count. Yourself. It's not about others; it's about you in the end. Now, do you want to come with me? You don't have to engage if you don't want to and I can assure you Finn will be able to protect himself."

"Are the lizards coming?"

"They go where you go until the General says otherwise."

• • •

He had gotten _weak_ over the past two weeks.

He was breathing hard, sweat already prickling his hairline. The wooden sword felt awkward in his hands and the soles of his feet were raw atop the training mats. If he were bleeding he had yet to notice, but had no doubts his toes would soon be soaked red. He was furious, but the energy was being directed inward, at himself for decomposing so quickly.

Finn had improved greatly. He was doing well enough to keep Ren's eyes sharp and glued to his actions, though Finn still didn't have the upper hand. He may have improved, but Ren was physically uninjured and painfully focused—had to be or he'd start to break open again. The light was all around him here, tugging at every last strand of his unraveling heart. He would soon be lost to its siren song.

Quick jabs, short blocks, and a twirling infiltration of a poor low guard left Finn on his side and Ren panting above, his shoulders and chest aching with the growing loss of energy. The ysalamiri on the edges of the practice floor were not helping in his fight to remain on his feet.

"Are you giving up that easily?" Finn chided.

Ren was making no attempt to hide his weariness. He may be the one on his feet, but he'd lost in terms of stamina. This had to be the end of it. "Watch your tongue." He turned from the true victor and sat heavily on the edge of the room, hands raking through his hair.

"Getting soft?" That was Poe.

"Fuck off."

There was no venom to the sound, only exhaustion. Two weeks here had drained him. Fourteen whole standard days was all it took to reduce Kylo Ren— master of the Knights of Ren, Darling of the First Order—to a hollow, apathetic, _tired_ thing that couldn't wait to close his eyes and sleep for an eternity.

Glancing up, he saw his own fracturing nightmare in the doorway. Luke Skywalker, the man he'd let down the worst.

Poe sucked in a breath. "We'll leave the two of you alone."

Their retreat shook his bones and he had to will himself to breathe. He had to start facing his demons instead of galloping away into the ever-growing night. Maybe the light was hiding somewhere behind the monsters. Maybe he only had to raise his sword to fight.

His breath caught in his throat with Luke's approach. There wasn't a thing he would let himself do in order to bound the hell away, but fear crept heavy into his bones as his uncle sat beside him on the steps to the training grounds. There was no way in the galaxy that this reunion could be considered happy or heartfelt.

"What name do you go by now?"

He didn't dare glance at the aging man. "I'm not sure. None of them sound right out loud."

"No longer Kylo Ren?"

He shivered at the syllables. "I don't think so. This is all happening so fast." The fear tumbled in words, tumbled like rushing water from his throat. "I feel as though I'm not who I was a few weeks ago, almost as if that man was never me, only a fiction of me; a shadow upon a jagged rock-face, something not whole in its representation. Is that the work of the light? Can it…change me so drastically?"

"The Force flows through all living things. It has a will of its own, and if you let it, it will show you what needs to be done."

"Is it telling you to speak to me? You haven't so much as glanced in my direction since I arrived."

"That among other things."

"I don't want your forgiveness, if that's what you've come to do. I don't want any of that until I can come to terms with myself."

"I understand." He shifted, finally looking at him. "What of Snoke, though? Can you still sense him?"

"No. He was gone from my head when I woke. I think…" He faltered, unsteady in his thoughts, unsteady in knowing what had happened. "He's shifting his efforts to Rey, she's an open canvas to him. She doesn't have the means to fight back; a perfect replacement."

"So as he grooms her—"

"I will be forgotten, yes. This day was always on the approach."

"Do you intend to stay here?"

"Didn't think I had a choice."

Luke chuckled, a melancholic sound. "You don't, but if you did?"

"Maybe. I don't know. If it means saving her."

"Perhaps we can make a deal."

* * *

"I think he's in love with her."

Finn almost spit out his water, looking Poe over in horror. "You _cannot_ be serious."

"Do you pay attention to what his face does whenever I ask after her?"

"Don't need to." He shook his head and sighed. "His defenses are down when the lizards are near and he doesn't guard himself when he fights. I can _hear_ his emotions. I'm more concerned that you've picked up on it too."

"Ben was always an open book when we were little. He's changed his name and changed his personality, but he hasn't been able to amend how well his emotions play across his face." Poe quickened his pace just a tad. "Does she know, do you think?"

"Haven't a clue. Rey's too far out to sense. I really hope his grounds for worrying about her aren't true, though."

"The last thing we need is Snoke getting another Force-sensitive pawn."

"And she doesn't need to feel so alone again. Or ever."

"Don't beat yourself up over this, all right?" He could see the slight twice Finn had been developing since Leia's son had been taken into their custody. It was furious, disgusted, and also a little jealous. "She made her choice. She knows what she's doing."

* * *

The truth was Rey had no idea what she was doing.

Not at first. Now she found herself mirroring Kylo's old duties, sitting in abominable silence while Hux droned at High Council meetings. She could throttle him with the curling of her finger and yet she found herself compelled not to kill him. Insufferable man. Truly obnoxious. Phasma, she could get along with, but _Hux_. Hux was a _seedy_ little vermin.

She was training with Phasma now, having ascended the ranks of her men until she was on par with the Captain herself. It seemed impressive only to those blunt in the Force—she was cheating most of the time, not that anyone had yet to realize.

Snoke had her constantly under his influence. It was so heavy sometimes it was almost impossible to breathe, her chest tight with the darkness that swirled in her bloodstream. No escaping what she was becoming, no escaping her inevitable future. She would end her apprenticeship darker than Kylo could ever be, darker than the long-dead pits of volcanic flows. Darker than silk, sleeker than steel. Strong, strong, strong.

If she could overcome her weaknesses.

They came first when she was preparing for bed, thoughts buzzing dimly in the back of her mind. Her bond with Kylo was still intact, but she shut him out as long as she could manage through the day, closed off their connection until she was in the fresher washing grime from her face. Little snatches of him would come through, little thoughts, quirks, and feelings. They bubbled like stew up and over the sides of her pot, running until they flooded the floor, covered her feet.

At night she would tuck herself under his dark sheets, having switched rooms once the news circulated that she was to be the new Master of the Knights of Ren. It felt so odd, slinking into his bedcovers without him there. Not that they'd shared many nights. Not that they would again.

She hadn't cried once, and for that she considered herself a mountain, unmovable and sturdy. The night came to fracture her down.

It was cold in the forest of her dreams. A forest long ago dismissed, long forgotten. Luke's saber flew by her black-gloved hand and into the open palm of a man dressed in tan leather and dark brown boots. He had Han Solo's eyes and Rey's own fear embedded into his brow.

"It's only us now!" She roared, flicking a fissuring red saber to life. Kylo's lightsaber.

The man's voice was quiet. "Did I really look that wild?"

"What are you stalling for?"

"How had I been so…" He stepped towards her, his blade sheathed in his hand. "Lost?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"A time that seems centuries away. A time where I was you and you were me. A time before we became each other."

She swung at him and he raised his blade to fight.

Rey crashed straight down into desert sands. She was on her knees before a pair of black boots that climbed the calves of Anakin Skywalker. Or, who was once Anakin Skywalker.

The apparition was missing limbs; half his chest replaced with thick steel coils and exposed circuits. His right eye was nothing but a glowering red orb of light painfully jammed into an empty socket. He bared his teeth and her insides quivered in a sickening lurch.

"Some might say you've strayed from where you should be." His voice was half-metallic, completely grating to her ears.

"Some would call you the true heir of the galaxy."

"What do mortals know?" His face changed, the metal receded and he looked pained. "Rey, you need to get out of there. It'll destroy you like it destroyed me."

"What about your grandson?"

Vader-Anakin shook his head. "He's too unbalanced for the darkness to affect him the way it'll conquer you. Save yourself, before it's too late."

He whipped away into sand and she was alone in a barren wasteland.

She woke slowly with hot eyes and a fevered throat. This was getting too hard to push away, but the Dark side was choking. They would war within her until she was pulled apart and left for dead. How had Kylo survived this?

"It wasn't as bad for me. I wanted it." He sat at the foot of her bed, a graceful smirk trying to hide sorrowful eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"Dream corridors. You know, what we've been doing sporadically for a few weeks."

"Did you see…all of that?"

"None of it."

Rey took a shaky breath. "I'm losing myself."

"I know."

"I fear I'm going to vanish into a dark fog soon, never to emerge. It's like being sucked into a gooey swamp."

"And while I'm pained to hear that, there's nothing I can do from so far away."

"Do you still hate me for doing this to you?"

"Us. To us. You've affected both of our trajectories. You're going where I would have ended up had I been less irrational and more goal-oriented. But for the sake of the galaxy, I have to say I'm grateful that I'm such a fuckup. You, on the other hand, are an overachiever. I was so…proud of how quickly you learned, but now I'm scared of it. I'm frightened for you."

"More frightened of how you are for yourself?"

"I'm not in a position to fear. I'm with family. They're treating me…okay. Better than they should be. My mother is ice cold with a fragile heart and it's my saving grace."

She patted the bed beside her and he hesitated to approach, settling a foot away with his back to the headboard. "How is she taking everything?"

"I imagine my face hurts her deeply whenever she looks at me but she doesn't let it show. I am every inch my father's son."

"When I ask you to come sit with me, I mean next to me, not a thousand lightyears away on the other side of the bed."

Kylo grimaces before he can stop himself. "I am, however, afraid to touch you."

His words seared like a hot iron on her skin, burning charred marks into her heart. It was dying already; why not let it die quicker? Put her out of her misery? Her stomach clenched. "Then perhaps you shouldn't have kissed me."

"I do not regret that. And I will not, ever." He looked down at his hands, studying the pattern of his callouses. "It was one of the gentlest things I've done in years, and I meant it."

"But you can't touch me now."

"I don't want to burn you, or for you to burn me."

"What if we burn together?"

"…I don't understand."

Rey heaved a deep, heavy sigh. "I'm disappearing. Or, who I was—I don't know what I'm becoming. But it's not her, and it's calculating and cold. Whoever I'll be once he's finished with me won't have a care for you; I can sense that much already. But I do. And I am not she, this future Rey in all black. I care a lot about you, Kylo."

He winced. "I'm not Kylo."

"Are you Ben?"

"No. I'm no one with a name. Some terrible in between stuck in the grey."

"That doesn't change what I've said." She reached for his hand, tucking her fingers into his. "This has all gotten so complicated. Can we go back to me kicking your ass in the snow?"

"I won that fight."

"Yeah, and look what it got you: sent back home to your mother."

"It also got you to stay with me. You gave me a chance—you didn't have to, you know. Knowing your head like I do now, I've no doubts you could have escaped had you tried."

"So I gave you a shot, big deal."

"Very big deal. Kylo Ren doesn't exist anymore. Of course, he's being replaced, but I'm not him."

"I didn't do that."

"No, you didn't, but someone had to be strong enough to give me that push, and there are few who would have been willing to help." He squeezed her hand before bringing it to his face, running his lips over her knuckles. "You only need one stone to cause an avalanche."

"I'm sorry for taking this away from us."

"I don't think 'this' would exist if you hadn't done what you did. I wouldn't have realized how important you are to me."

"You're lying. You knew that already."

"Fear made me act."

"I never would have gone first, if you hadn't."

He nodded and placed a fluttering kiss to the back of her hand.

"You still owe me a favor for trying to sleep in my bed."

" _My_ bed. It was _my_ bed. And I do. Why?"

"If I'm going to disappear into a monster's skin soon, I want…" She pushed images and feelings at him through their bond, unable to let the words ring in the air lest they be rejected.

"No, Rey. Not for the wrong reasons."

"How is this the wrong reason?"

"Doing that out of fear and anxiety for the future? Something you feel you _should_ do?"

"I might not make it out of this alive." She took her hand back, bringing her knees to her chest. "I might not come home. Okay? Even if we beat Snoke and I live, _I_ might not be the girl to wear my face. If the darkness swallows me whole…"

"Still…"

"And it's not because I never have and might never get to, it's because…I want to be _close_ to you before the final fall. I want to have that fleeting memory to grasp onto if only in dreams. And I want you to have it, too. Close to you." She rolled into him and pressed her ear over his chest. He felt cold as her arms snaked around his waist. Oh, what she would give to hold him like this for an eternity. She splayed her fingers across his breast, over the faint pulse of his heart. "I want you to keep me here, in whatever atrophied space you have left in your ribs."

He was quiet for a long while, his voice soft when it broke. "I already keep you deep within my heart."

"Then give me this, please. A favor to both of us."

His hands found their way around her. "I promise to be nothing but good to you."

He laid her down into the sheets, the room twisting to reflect one she didn't recognize. Real starlight flickered from glass skylights above and his skin was bathed golden in the honey light of candles scattered in the room. He brushed back the hair on her temple.

"You're a secret romantic, aren't you?"

"Disgustingly so, but you're the first to see it."

His kiss was gentle, starting by her ear and carrying down her jaw before setting upon her neck. She'd never…been touched like this before. Been handled with the amount of…was it tenderness that he showed her? It was something that would have been unimaginable for him to display months ago. But he was changed, wasn't he? Maybe not fully, but enough that he had bare traces of the Knight who once shared his face.

"I don't know how any of this works," she blurted when he cupped her head to bring her closer.

"I do. An embarrassing amount, actually. Just…follow my lead."

He leaned in and the touch of his lips to hers sent flutters cascading down into her stomach, little twitters of excitement jittering about her nerves. His fingers wandered down her side and she curled hers into his hair. It was all she could do to anchor herself to this fleeting moment, this dream more vibrant than reality. It was a dream somehow more important than the waking world because it contained him, his conscious, his presence. He was here, with her. He was here, his breath hot on her neck, making emotions well quickly in her hollowed-out ribcage.

He rose on his haunches and snaked out of his light shirt, the broad expanse of his chest fully exposed to her for the first time in the light. He was built sturdy like a pillar, his core powerful, sinew curled under skin. Atop his shoulder and streaking across his collarbone was an angry violet-red rope of a scar.

A scar she gave him, the same one that split his face.

It was impossible to ward off the tears climbing to the corners of her eyes.

"Rey…" His timbre was deep, so deep. He ran his fingers down her cheek before kissing her again, somehow making it worse.

"I hurt you."

His eyes widened a fraction, flicking to the serpentine scar marring his flesh. "But look at this one, see?" He guided her hand to the white starburst on the other shoulder, the one that echoed down close to his heart. "You healed me here. Remember? You kept me from bleeding out for seven hours."

"But your _face_. I did _that_. That was _me._ "

"Hands can harm and heal. As of late, yours have been fixing me up. Shh. Oh, Rey." He wiped at the tears trickling down the sides of her face. "I forgave what you did ages ago. It's kind of cool—"

"It's not cool."

"No, not even slightly. Kind of terrifying, might scare children. We were enemies then. Adversaries on a battlefield. You did what you had to, as did I." He began to pepper her with kisses, his touch too sweet, his actions not matching with his face, with his past, with anything he used to be. The way he…he was so gentle with her, he had to…care for her, far more than she originally thought.

"Can I touch it?"

His face was buried in her neck, fingers tracing the opposite ear. "Yeah," he mumbled into her skin. "Whatever makes you happy, you can have." He rose onto his forearms and she traced his long-ago burned visage with feather light fingertips.

"What does it feel like?"

"Pressure. I've lost the nerves on the surface."

"I'm so sorry."

"Stop." He dipped his head to lay a kiss on her forehead. "I've _dreamed_ you'd want me back—want me like this—for _eons_. Been so kriffing choked up on guilt about it, about you, that it makes me feel nauseous, knowing what a monster I was—am, I don't know. But you _do_. You do and I will not permit any more guilt tonight. Got it? No negative feelings or we stop."

"That's a tall order."

"Yeah, well I'm a demanding prick. We hadn't gone a day separated for two months; I thought you'd have picked up on that. Sit up, we need to get you out of those clothes."

She obeyed, wiping the last guilty tears from her eyes as he pulled the hem of her shirt up and over her head. The chill of the room caused her to cover her chest. Her tiny, tiny chest. "They're kind of small."

"Quick confession, I was lying when I taunted you about them." He took her wrists in his hands, gingerly pulling her arms away from her breasts. "I think they're perfect."

He focused his attention on her mouth, however, kissing her slowly as he covered her with his frame, his strong arms cradling her below him. She let her fingers trace the muscles of his shoulders, the gorgeous, gorgeous planes of muscle and bone stretching out like vast waves of rolling hills. His sides were sturdy and a spot over his ribs made him curl into a ball with laughter, shielding sensitive skin from her pestering.

"I'm ticklish there, stop! Force, _Rey!_ " He rolled onto his back, posing in a threat to kick if she came near.

"Ticklish?"

"Yeah…you've never done that to someone else, have you?"

"This is the most I've ever touched someone before."

Her sentence sends a visible pang of sadness across his face. He reaches up to her, pulling her down onto his chest in a crushing hug. "I wish I could be with you when you wake up, so you're not so lonely. I don't want you to be alone anymore."

"This will be enough for now, though. Getting to hold you."

He kissed her throat, hands stroking soothing patterns down her back. "What have we become for each other?"

"Sick with need."

"When did you become needy?"

"When you kissed me."

She sat up, then, and inched down so she was straddling his thighs. It was her turn to kiss his scarred skin, all the nicks and bruises that stained him all shades of purple, yellow, red, and blue. Her turn to calm his insecurities, whatever hidden demons he kept—for she knew he had a menagerie tucked away in those star eyes and meteorite skin. He was a galaxy of darkness, but she would find the light.

A line of dark hair grew from his navel to below the waistband of his pants and she pressed kisses down it before going back to his lips. His eyes were deep pools of thick stewing emotions, wants that sunk stones in the sea of her body. His restraint was running thin.

Without so much as a word he pushed her onto her back, climbing down to strip her remaining articles to the floor. Her bare skin met the air and she brought her knees together with a snap.

"Have you changed your mind?"

"No, I've just…I've not been so naked in front of anyone."

"I'll make it even."

His clothing lost somewhere unimportant, he kneeled in front of her, stroking his fingers across the seam of her legs. Soon the sensation grew pleasant and she, less embarrassed by her body.

 _Beautiful_.

He didn't say it out loud, but the word was slipped easily across their bond. He reinforced it with each kiss he gave to her inner thighs. _Beautiful_. His fingers dipped down to the juncture of her hips and every motion he made carried that word tagged onto its intent.

He entered her in a blaze of heat. It settled unsteadily into pleasure and discomfort until Rey let go of her clenched fear. He said very little as he kissed every piece of her skin he could reach. The even trickle of their Force bond burst open again as they rose in a crescendo, emotions and thoughts slamming into one another with so little control it was laughable to think either could manage an iota of self-restraint. He was fire. He was fire and he was roaring through her, scalding and beautiful.

She pressed it back, lobbed it at him whenever their eyes met, whenever her hips bucked up to meet his. Soon the kisses broke into breath, hot and short. Fast, never quite a lungful. It was so slow, the act. He was _so_ slow with her, as gentle as the stars were brilliant above. As gentle as low tide, as caring as she needed, thoughtful, tender. He called himself a monster, but at least with her he behaved as a lover should, with more attention than she thought herself worthy of receiving.

Climax came too quickly, for both him and for her. His light kisses turned into a hard, passionate colliding of lips, teeth tugging at her, tongue soothing away the harshness of his actions. She gripped tightly at his shoulders until her vision was clouded again by tears. Good tears this time, happy tears. Tears she cried with a big smile cracking her chapped lips.

His eyes were wet, too. With a short sigh he collapsed by her side, arms hungry to hold her, to feel her before they were sucked away by the waking world. His lips pressed to the hollow behind her ear. "I love you."

She twisted her body to face his, her lips grazing his temple. "I know."

* * *

Mountains of chips were passed to Padmé as she smiled smugly from the head of the table. Anakin did nothing but glower.

* * *

 **A/N:** Something a little extra nice to tide you over until I get out of Finals Hell™ which I will descend into Thursday and emerge from next Friday, May 13th. I will not have a chapter up that Friday as I think I'll be sorting the chunks of brain that no doubt will explode in the coming weeks.

Guys I am sorry I am _such shit_ at responding to reviews but they all warm my heart and I want y'all to know half the time I'm too smiley and happy to write anything remotely coherent. 333 you guys are the tits

I think we might be getting close to the end...

To the rest of you out there taking your finals, good luck! We've got this! I'll see you in two weeks!


	16. Old Wars

16\. Old Wars

"You know why you are summoned here, correct?"

Standing in a grand audience chamber, yes, he knew why he was summoned. He knew he would be put up before the Resistance's main commanders the second he was betrayed. It was obvious they would try him, regardless of his mother's words.

Leia was a member of this overpowered jury, sitting with her hands folded out of sight, refusing to look him in the eye. Their contact had been better over the past month and a half. Not perfect, but more amiable than he ever could have hoped. Now she refused him even a glance.

The rest of the base had come to suspect whom he was and the whispers grew into mutterings until the higher members of command could no longer ignore his presence, calling him to a hearing before everyone of rank. This meant his mother. This meant many of her friends he'd known briefly through his childhood. His uncle. Eyes who recognized him even when they didn't realize why.

He wasn't so gangly as before, but his eyes were difficult to forget, deep brown splintered with tiger's-eye gold. That had come as a surprise, a reflection of his youth staring him down. He had wiped steam off the mirror to see the face his sixteen-year-old self, changed only by the slight lines near his brow and the red fissure splitting his countenance.

"I'm aware, yes." He kept his head high, not allowing them to humiliate him any further. His family was starting to see him change and he would not be battered from this course by a bunch of half-grade politicians.

"Do you have any questions for the council before we begin, Kylo Ren?"

He bit the inside of his cheek. "It's Ben."

"Pardon?"

Deep breath. "I am Ben Solo, and I will be tried for the crimes of my past."

The woman at the bench raised a slight eyebrow. This was a change; he knew this was a change. He still wasn't comfortable with his old name, but the new one…being referred to as _Ren_ once more made shivers cascade in violent tides down his spine. He didn't want to be that anymore, knowing the future that name would hold. He was here now—this was the man he was becoming.

"Very well." She steepled her hands. "You are accused of—"

Ben heard the list. Heard it loud and damning in his ears. Murder. Genocide (which he was not responsible for, the blast to Hosnian Prime). Crimes against the state. Crimes against personhood and species. Illegal military action and formation, criminal organization. Trafficking—though how that one came about, he hadn't a clue.

The list went on and he fell into a black pit.

This was a Force vision—he'd had them before.

He stood beside Rey, who now appeared as a wild queen. A knight in his place, she was dark as an endless void. Her clothing was reminiscent of his, with a dark tabard and thick belt, its end falling down her waist like a warrior of old. She wore no mask, but her gloves came up to the sleeveless tops of her shoulders, a heavy cloak around her neck. She looked to him and her eyes were flickering sickly amber, the same color he'd managed to keep from his.

She turned forward, being addressed by someone outside the vision. He couldn't hear the conversation, but he saw images, snippets of words in her head. A huge red canyon shuttered into focus, faces of the dead carved into its walls. Suddenly—rather abruptly—she took notice of his presence. Anger boiled heavy in her chest and she gave him a powerful shove, sending him flying from her mind.

Hands gripping the edge of the podium where he stood, Ben took thick, labored breaths. He couldn't feel her anymore—she'd severed their connection—but he saw, _Force_ , he saw what Snoke was planning.

"How do you plead, Solo?"

The words barely reached his ears and he whipped around to Luke. " _Thought bomb._ "

Luke's eyebrows shot up.

" _Solo_."

"The Valley, I _saw_ the Valley."

Luke's nose wrinkled. "Snoke isn't a Sith."

"Doesn't _matter_ , it's a thought bomb, he's _planning_ for it."

"But they only work on sensitives."

"Apparently not _this_ time."

"Master Skywalker, do you have something to add?"

Uncle and nephew cringed, turning back to the council. "I believe we may have an idea of the First Order's next attack. Can you see anything else?"

"No." He shook his head, hands nervous through his hair. "No, she's cut me off entirely." And that made his chest _ache_ , that she'd throw him away like that. It figured, though, with what she was becoming. Still, he felt as though he were bleeding internally.

"But you saw the Valley?"

"Yes. She knows what it is. She's spoken to Qui-Gon in a dream. I have every suspicion that she's the reason Snoke knows."

"Would anyone care to enlighten the rest of us the basis of this _personal_ conversation?"

Ben hated that woman right now. "It's a blast of energy that traps Force-sensitive souls in a torturous vortex for eternity. It's an ancient weapon that requires a lot of power. Snoke intends to manipulate it to affect non-sensitive beings. My family line is unmistakably the primary target."

"How do we defend against it?"

"We don't," Luke said. "It's been centuries since one was last used."

"How certain are you of this, Ben Solo?"

"Eighty-five percent at the least. If it's not this specifically, it's something equally bad."

"But you can no longer connect to your source, can you not?"

"Oh, give it a rest." His mother stood from her place. "If what he says is correct, we've got bigger issues at the moment than prodding for a criminal trial. Let the boy help."

The council leader turned to Luke. "Do you trust him?"

"Yes."

• • •

Ben hurried alongside his uncle when the chambers adjourned. They'd be meeting again in the War Room in an hour's time to discuss the consequences of this new information—he was to be present as well, the only lead into Rey's mind, though the old pathway was shattered.

"Thank you for this. I know…I know it's not the easiest thing for you to do."

"We made a deal, Ben. I intend to honor my part, and expect you to honor yours."

That felt a little damning. "I can't sense her anymore, though. I meant that when I said it. I don't know how I'm supposed to get back into her head—if I even can."

"We'll need to meditate first. You need to stay calm through it; our memories will merge."

"I understand."

"You cannot pull out if it gets uncomfortable, either sorting through my head or yours."

They traveled down into the bowels of the base, deep into where the metal of the floors above met the rock in which it was carved. He had minor splits of memory down here, recalling the descent into the ruins on Giaca. When he blinked or turned his head too quickly, he could see her beside him, the determination in her face prominent and proud.

"Are we at a Nexus?"

"I never bothered to check. Here," he pushed a long drapery away to reveal a small meditation chamber hidden in the rockface. Ben stepped awkwardly inside, crouching to fit his height through the small opening. It was dimly lit but a strange sort of cozy, calling him back to the days he spent training under his uncle's tutelage. He could smell the burning herbs from years long past, feel the thick humidity of a rain on his skin.

They sat across from each other, knees on mats placed over the damp ground. Ben let his mind drift miles away from him, focused only on his breathing, then on Luke's presence. Quickly, but slowly, they begin.

He sees sand. So much sand. There is barely anything on the landscape but sand. It's hot—hot as that hellhole Jakku—and Ben can feel his skin burn under the rays of two incredible suns. This is the planet his uncle grew up on, the one his grandfather grew up on. That thought shakes him—he's been _nothing_ but a disappointment to Anakin Skywalker.

The sands twist around and he sees the old Jedi who has visited his dreams more than once, his uncle's tutor—Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's been with Ben's family for two generations—this is the man he was named for.

His mother swirls before the vision, young, aggressive but commanding. His father, too—a dashing figure, a self-made smuggler. There's tension, fighting, a war. The war he was born after, the one that had ripped the galaxy open in places. It didn't end as planned; it didn't fix all the wrongs in the galaxy.

He comes next, young and fresh-faced beside Luke. He recalls the excitement that filled him when he began his training; the despair that landed once Snoke began to press to heavily into his mind. He crumbled, crushed his uncle, and fled, leaving Luke to wander, searching for a purpose, a meaning to all the pain. To the first temple he travels.

Then it is his turn. He sees the fire that emerged with his transformation, the half-finished cocoon with which he surrounded himself. He did not emerge as a dark moth from the silken strings, is now instead a strange gray thing neither attracted nor repulsed by the light. But before, he is vicious; he is cruel. He wants to be what he cannot.

And then there's her.

The girl.

She touches him, removes parts of his darkness, and it takes so long for him to let her in, to let her grace his skin, but once he does, the world speeds up. The universe crashes around him and suddenly it's _only_ her. She has planets in her eyes and stars on her cheeks and she's magic under his hands. She's strong and cunning and she outsmarts him occasionally, but she's brilliant. Oh, she's brilliant.

She tastes like how he imagines the cosmos would, sparking and endless. Looking at her causes him to remember how she felt, how she was, how much he has grown to _care_ about her. She is the wrench in his plan, she is his downfall, and he would not give up her role for anything. He wants her here, with him, beside him, out of the darkness where she belongs.

He reaches out to hold her and the world becomes blindingly bright.

The room was cold when he returned to his senses, his head pounding. He could feel the fissure between them beginning to heal, but slowly, slower than they needed. Rubbing his eyes, he looked up to his uncle. "So that's it?"

"You have changed, haven't you?"

He nodded. "Am still changing."

"Is she really that important to you?"

He flushed, slightly embarrassed by how much Luke had seen. "She is."

"Then we have work to do."

* * *

Rey could feel a tingling feeling in the back of her head, something wriggling its way past her defenses. She snarled at it but it continued, trying to bury itself deep in her consciousness. She didn't have _time_ for these petty distractions.

 _Yes you do_ , said the voice she'd been attempting to drown out. _It's him, you still want him._

No, she didn't.

 _Liar._

She tossed her cloak angrily onto the chair by her desk. No, _no_ , she didn't. She was done with him. He was useless and gone, shipped away for destruction. He failed Snoke and he failed her. These were the last sorts of thoughts she needed at night, before bed. There were more important things happening now than the frivolous love of some fickle graywalker. Of someone who couldn't pick a side. She had picked hers, and she was determined to stay here.

Throwing herself down onto the mattress, she wrenched the feelings from their place in her ribs, pulling hard until…

They stayed there, stuck like sinew to bones. Somewhere in the back of her darkening mind, she still wanted him. The feeling was made worse by the night. She closed her eyes and tried to think of the new directive. Her training to maintain the control would begin tomorrow. Snoke would aid her in this, in centering the energy and keeping it balanced until it split open on D'Qar and havoc thundered through the planet.

She would be unstoppable then.

But she would also be alone.

He'd be…gone after that. Ended. Vanished into the dust. And she would be the cause of it. She would end the one good thing—

No, he wasn't the one good thing.

"Yes I am."

He was lying beside her on the bed, hands folded over his chest and smile smug. She'd fallen asleep without realizing.

"I cut you out."

"Not well enough." He rolled onto his side, still smirking as he did. She hated that expression, wanted to punch it from his face.

"You could kiss it off too, I think that works better."

"I don't want to _kiss you_."

"A few weeks ago you wanted to sleep with me, and I think we both enjoyed that."

"I've changed."

"I know."

"You have too, Kylo."

"Ben," he corrected. "It's Ben now."

"So you've fully gone soft now?"

He laughed, and she raised an eyebrow. "In some ways, not others."

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk to the girl hiding in your shell. Is she there somewhere?"

"No."

"Yes she is." He tugged on her shoulders and she stayed put, a scowl on her face. "Rey, Sweetheart, I know you're in there."

"Don't call me that. It sounds wrong out of your mouth."

"Why is that?"

"You're supposed to be dark. You're supposed to be dark and _here with me_."

"No, you're supposed to be gray and with _me_ , but you pushed me away." His hands grazed her cheeks and she let him, keeping still. Gods, she had missed his hands—had only touched him once before in a dream, but she missed it. Missed their sleepy intimacy.

"I had to do what I could for you, to get you away."

"And damn yourself like a martyr." His lips pressed to her temples and she relaxed, her shoulders, falling. "I miss you."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I know, stop saying it."

"I don't want to. I want you to _feel_ it, too. Let me in again. I want to be near you."

"What changed you?" She took in the sight of him, the warmth in his brown eyes, and the careful kindness in his smile. He was a different man than before, someone new where her former teacher had been. He meant his words.

"A little bit of you, a little bit of reality. A lot of not wanting to be what I was." His lips were so soft, so damningly soft. "A lot of wanting to touch you without feeling guilty about myself."

"But we screwed it all up again."

"For the now. There's still time to change it all. You can come back."

"I can't."

"I'm going to bring you home, okay? I'll get you back safely."

"There is no safety in a world of war."

"We can protect each other, you and me." He nudged closer and she crinkled to his touch. The girl living deep in her hollowing heart did love this man and there was little she could do to prevent the impulses that rose up like fire.

"Stop this before it happens. It has to end, Ben. I'm not going to disobey once I wake up."

"If you can keep a space open for me in your head, I promise we'll do everything we can."

"Are you doing this for them or me?"

"It started as just for you, but now I think I want to do it for them, too. You are my first priority though."

She nodded, magma hot in her chest. She folded into him, her hands caught up in his hair, mouth pressed to his. She wanted him so _badly_ , wanted to keep in this dream until the end of time. Once she woke, he would be lightyears away and she would be dark as brutal poison. She wouldn't want him unless at rest, loved him only in dreams. She hoped—dearly, deeply—that soon she could love outside of this surreal land. But until then, she would pine in unconsciousness.

* * *

"How's he doing?"

Leia walked beside Luke as they meandered through the base. The hour was late, most the personnel asleep, and they took this time to catch up. Now, though, her concern was less with her brother and more with her son.

"Better, I think. More of the boy we lost than the man who was feared. I don't think he'll come back all the way, though."

"He's my kid; I'll end up taking him however he ends up, we both know that."

"I think she'll be good for him, if we can get her back."

"The scavenger girl?"

Luke nodded. "I saw into his head today. Most of his darker memories were drowned out by her—he was practically swimming in her."

"So you believe Poe, then?"

"Absolutely. I hope it's not all that's carrying him, but I think it won't do more harm."

"I hope you're right."

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm so sorry this took so long. I'm involved in way too many projects at the moment and I'm having a hard time getting this to where I want it to be. We're close to the end, though.


End file.
